BEYOND BORDERS JANUARY 2017

BEYOND
BORDERS
A BIGG PUSH INITIATIVE
JANUARY | 2017
A N I N T E R N A T I O N A L O N L I N E M A G A Z I N E
TV PARTNER
WORDS
REMAIN
CAMPAIGN
READERS CLUB
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LIFESTYLE
CONSULTANT

Painting by
Kris Iyer
Dubai, UAE
kris@kayeinc-dxb.com
Lead us from ignorance to truth
Lead us from darkness to light
Lead us from death to everlasting life.)
I aspire to spread the truth, the light till death

CONTENTS
Patron Council
Ralph Tabberer
J Rajmohan Pillai
Musthafa Zafeer
Ranjit Kumar
Chief Editor & Publisher
Sujil Chandra Bose
Editorial Board
Laxmi Menon
Francis Tharakan
Ken Brian
Anil George
Kris Iyer
Vigil Bose
Sub Editor
Pallavi Manoj
Photography
Enjo Mathew
Francis Tharakan
Lal TD
Design by
BIGG PUSH
Marketed by
Turning Point
Dubai, UAE
Copyrights reserved by
BIGG PUSH
India, USA, UAE
All complaints and
communications regarding
the content shall be sent to
bigpushconsulting@gmail.com
ARTICLES
Celebrity Kindness
By Rachel Varghese
Across time and space
By Ken Brian
Home away from Home
By Pallavi Manoj
Knowing Others
By J Rajmohan Pillai
Princess Amira
By Nur Amur
Sorry Mama
By Mini Anil
Words Remain
By Shruthy Muraleedharan
Differently Religious
By Bindu Krishnakumar
Democractic Business
By Laxmi Menon
Ruminating
By Kris Iyer
Parable of the Pipeline
By Dr. Rajsekhar G
A Pair of shoes
Sandhya Ram
My Sucy
Rani Johnson
Paintings
Kris Iyer
Nisar Ibrahim
Sindhu Rajeev
Photographs
Abhilash Chemmannur
Rahul Sachit
Shaji S Panicker
Sujil Chandra Bose
JANUARY 2017
BEYOND
BORDERS
A BIGGPUSH SOCIAL INITIATIVE

E D I T O R ' S N O T E
Our uniqueness, our
individuality, and our life
experience molds us into
fascinating beings. I hope we
can embrace that. I pray we
may all challenge ourselves
to delve into the deepest
resources of our hearts to
cultivate an atmosphere of
understanding, acceptance,
tolerance, and compassion.
We are all in this life
together. Linda Thompson
BEYOND
BORDERS
Issue 03 | January. 2017
We had launched a social media
campaign last month by the
name WORDS REMAIN, implying
the power of words, the
messages it creates and
communicates which impacts our
society at large. The response we
got was overwhelming, especially
from UAE where slowly the
community of expatriates are
turning to books. We realize that
the time has come to activate the
global society of letters to work
for bringing sanity back into the
social psyche and the only way to
make it happen is to tread the
passage of books. When the
world is being polarized by faiths
and its politics, we need to stand
up for the rights of the common
man who has no role in any of
these deviant designs. Hence
Words Remain as a campaign will
grow into a massive movement of
thoughts in the days to come. I
request all our readers to unite
under the noble umbrella of
Beyond Borders.
Sujil Chandra Bose

Photograph by
Abhilash Chemmannur
Sydney, Australia
abilash.c@gmail.com

CELEBRITY
KINDNESS
BY RACHEL VARGHESE, HOUSTON, USA
Last week, Kunchacko Boban, a popular
Malayalam film actor happened to be in front
of me in line at Kochi airport. Having done
“celebrity shows” for years, I quietly watched
his behavior to passers by, noting the
kindness. Not one iota of grandeur passed his
face, no request to be given preferential
treatment, nothing. Third generation in
cinema, and a twenty-year veteran of films, he
wore no sunglasses at night, not once
pretending to seek anonymity. He stood
quietly, stopping to accommodate the
constant array of fellow passengers, airport
staff and visitors who all asked him for selfies.
Like the rest of the travelers, we were in line
at 2 am, sleepy and tired but he took each
request in stride.
I thought about the long list of “celebrities”
who over the years, have gone on tour with
me, come home or done shows or
conferences for me. Celebrity management is
a tricky feat. Not all, but many new celebs
treat the newfound fame with gross
entitlement. Traveling with some new celebs is
an exercise in patience
.
I am reminded of the Malayalam phrase which closely
translates into “using the shade of the umbrella at
midnight”. In many cases, the umbrella is replaced by
dark sunglasses. The drama, the requests to
accommodate their celebrity presence is par for the
course and I have become accustomed to anticipate the
requests. I have noticed a distinct difference in the
children who grew up in the film industry, who manage to
behave like normal adults. What is required is set ahead
of time in contract negotiations and work clearly
precedes everything else and their lack of drama is
endearing.
However, I work with genuine interest for artists who are
grounded and advocate for their unspoken requests and
enjoy watching their reaction for kindness they did not
demand or expect. Regardless of cultural background or
celebrity status, compassion for human needs resonates
with everyone. Watching out for what they need as they
travel is my role but the counter compassion for those
who find them to be important is behavior I could never
teach. Kunchacko Boban’s patience was visibly priceless
to those who received it and in turn, resonates warmly in
his public brand perception.
Kindness goes a long way and is a choice, no matter our
circumstances in life.

Photograph by
Rahul Sachit
Dubai, UAE

A B O U T T H E C A M P A I G N
WORDS REMAIN
BEYOND BORDERS announced a unique
campaign on Social media recently, which
was well received by a vast community of
friends and well wishers who went out of
the way to support and encourage the
initiative.
Selfies and pictures with one's favorite
books were invited and we received a
phenomenal response. Worldon HD TV,
our Television Partner was kind enough to
take up the cause, supporting the initiative
by agreeing to broadcast all the pictures on
the Channel, promoting the campaign in a
big way.
Friends from India, Middle East, USA and
Europe took special interest in the
campaign and we are grateful for their
overwhelming support to the initiative.

FEATURE
ACROSS TIME & SPACE
KEN JONES, Abu Dhabi UAE
I have recently undertaken some research into my family tree; it is
both fascinating and addictive. One of the spin-offs, was that I decided
to investigate a family legend about my father. From a very young age
I can remember him telling a story about being bombed during World
War 2. Usually this story would be heard during parties when my
father had taken a few drinks. My siblings and I would roll our eyes
and joke when we heard the immortal lines: ‘The Germans tried to kill
me and my brother, but they didn’t manage it!’ The story went that my
father and his brother were playing under a table when the bomb
landed. I managed to contact a local historian in Battersea, London,
and discovered that the ‘Doodlebug’ flying bomb, fell in the garden of
the house next to my father’s. He sent me a copy of the report, written
at the time by the air-raid warden. It was 6.28 am on 17th July 1944.
My father was 6 years old and his brother 3 years old. Over 100
houses were destroyed by the bomb; it was reported that four were
killed, and forty-four taken to hospital, including my grandmother. My
father remembers being trapped for days in a small pocket under two
legs of the collapsed table; his younger brother crying continually. The
incident report actually states that all those buried, were rescued
within three hours; I can forgive my father for this inaccuracy, it must
have been truly terrifying.
Some days later I was watching a distressing news report from Syria,
showing a small girl, bloodied and frightened being dragged from the
rubble that was once her house. The enormity of my father’s
experience hit me like a sledgehammer. As I read the 1944 air-raid
warden’s report once again, I began to weep. It was as though the past
and present had collided in my head. The bombs are still falling and
the innocent are still suffering.
It also occurred to me that my father has only ever know Germans
who, (in his words), had tried to kill him. He has never had the
opportunity to meet any. My wife, children, and I are fortunate enough
to have a number of very good German friends, met during our years
in the Middle East. They are people that my father would love, and I
hope, meets one day.
And then there came the terrible act of terrorism in a German
Christmas market. It was followed by much criticism of the
government’s policies on immigration. I understand the concerns, as
much as I commend Germany for the tolerance and humanity that
they have shown to people in need. It is a cliché to say that we should
learn from the past, but our future depends on it.
Friendship and understanding across generations, as well as
countries, gives us hope.

HOME AWAY
FROM HOME.
By PALLAVI MANOJ, Dubai, UAE
Fifteen years ago, when I had stepped foot in this
country as a 7-year-old girl, I was heartbroken.
Heartbroken for leaving behind my extended family,
friends, my room and everything else that a 7-yearold
would worry about. Moving to a new place meant
new school, new people and new teachers. As a
sufficiently timid child, I wasn’t happy to say the least.
I had resolved to never call this place home, never in
a million years! I imagined it to be a strange land,
with strange people who would refuse to be my
friends because I was an outsider. Only having
experienced the taste of ‘Duffai chocolates’ from the
cousins who came back to India once in many years, I
had no idea what to expect.
I still remember the first day of the new school I
already knew I would hate. Despite the number of
new items that I carried in my school bag and
squeaky new shoes, the sick feeling in the pit of my
stomach refused to go away. This was the school that
ultimately became the centre of my universe, the
school that gave me my best friends, the best
experiences and the best memories till today. But
back then, I refused to accept it as my own.
My childish mind speculated…Why was I uprooted
from the greenery of my home to this scorching heat
in the desert? My question would only be answered
over the course of 15 years. I feel the middle east was
aptly named so, the UAE being such an important
part of it. This country is not just a place where
people migrate to make money, it is a golden middle
ground that welcomes each new expatriate with a
warm embrace. It is a boiling pot of over seventy
nationalities, and it shows no qualms to accept each
of these nationalities as their own, giving each one
their space. A place where a mix of different
nationalities, cultures, religions and races coexists. If
it wasn’t for this country, I would perhaps never have
learnt and experienced a truly global economy.
As the 7-year-old grew up into an adolescent and
then an adult, so did her love for the place she had
once hated. As I changed from stranger to resident,
UAE had changed from a strange place to home.

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BEYOND BORDERS.
Write to the Editor @
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Worldwide launch
READERS CLUB
A BIGG PUSH SOCIAL INITIATIVE
BEYOND BORDERS was initiated as a concept to
bridge the gap in our society, created by the politics
of religions, color and languages. We firmly believe
that as human beings, everyone has the right to life
and expression. At BB, we are fortunate to have
networked with some of the finest human beings
who have produced their creative best to ensure a
superior quality in our content.
BB extends its reach to the entire globe through a
number of READERS CLUBS in the cities of New York,
Arkansas and Texas in the US, Toronto and Edmonton
in Canada, Doha in Qatar, Dubai and Abudhabi in
UAE, Singapore, Australia and Chennai, Bangalore,
Cochin and Trivandrum in India. The clubs will soon
be expanded to other parts of the world too. We
intend to create communities who will come together
to encourage the good habit of reading that will
eventually revive goodness in mankind.
Write to us if you want to know more.

“Diversity is an aspect of human
existence that cannot be
eradicated by terrorism or war or
self-consuming hatred. It can only
be conquered by recognizing and
claiming the wealth of values it
represents for all.”
― Aberjhani, Splendid Literarium
Photograph by
Shaji S Panicker
Doha, Qatar

KNOWING
OTHERS
By Dr. J Rajmohan Pillai
Hon. Member of the Patron Council
Knowing others is wisdom, knowing yourself
is Enlightenment. "As Above, So Below. As
Within, So Without".
Nearly all mankind is more or less unhappy,
Because nearly all do not know the true Self,
Real happiness abides in Self-knowledge
Alone. All else is fleeting. To know one's
Self
is to be blissful always.
Self awareness is developed through
practices in focusing your attention on the
details of your personality and behavior. It
isn’t learned from reading a book. When you
read a book you are focusing your attention
on the conceptual ideas in the book. You can
develop an intellectual understanding of the
ideas of self awareness from a book, but this
is not the same. With your attention in a
book you are practicing not paying attention
to your own behavior, emotions and
personality. Think of learning to be mindful
and self aware as learning to dance. When
learning to dance we have to pay attention to
how and where our feet move, our hands
and body motion, what our partner is doing,
music, beat, floor space, and other dancers.
Dancing isn’t learned from books and Self
Awareness isn’t either. A dancer needs
awareness of their body movements.
Self awareness is what you develop when
you pay attention to your expressions of
thought, emotions, and behavior. In my
years of study and working with clients I
have discovered many useful techniques that
accelerate this learning.
Self knowledge is important because it helps you
to understand yourself better. Through better
self understanding, you are more able to be in
control of your own life. You can then make life
happens for you rather than have life happens to
you. It also helps you to find answer to the more
insightful and spiritual question - "Who am I?"
Through self knowledge, we are in a better
position to understand the outer physical
universe as well as the inner metaphysical world
within us, and to see how our mind becomes the
interface for both experiences. We now know
that the meanings we place on the "realities" of
life have a greater effect on the quality of our
human experience than the "realities"
themselves. Thus, we can change the quality of
our life simply by changing the way we think and
view the world around us. We can become
happier simply by changing ourselves, without
changing the world. Paradoxically, when we do
change ourselves, the world around us changes
as well, as if on its own.
We live in a participatory universe where our
thoughts and beliefs are very real "things" that
affect the world around us. It is as if the content
of our inner mind is reflected out into the
physical world. This is how we create our own
destiny. This is the understanding that will stop
us from becoming a victim of circumstances, and
instead become the master of our own destiny.
This is a key lesson in self understanding, in
knowing that we create our own lives and that we
are fully and completely responsible for what we
create - consciously AND unconsciously. It is
extremely empowering to realize that whatever
we create we can re-create, thus we are never a
victim of circumstances. It is always within our
power to change our lives.

EXPERIENCE
PRINCESS
AMIRA
By Nur Amur
Dubai, UAE
Diya anxiously walked along the corridors of
the hospital, her new place of work, feeling
overwhelmed. She had just started work
here at the management office. A huge
responsibility rested on her shoulders and
the expectations were high. Her colleague
Remya had just taken her around the
hospital describing the wards,
departments while introducing Diya to the
healthcare members of the hospital.
Once Diya was back in the office, as she
discussed the details, Ramya asked her; "Isn't
Amira adorable?"
"Sorry, I did'nt quite get you" Diya said.
"Amira, the baby who lives in the hospital",
replied Remya.
Now, more confused than before, Diya
responded "Sorry, what?!". Surprised at
Diya's response. Although Diya was new at
the hospital, she had been part of the group
company for a couple of years. Ramya asked
"Do you not know about Princess Amira?".
She further explained," The girl who lives in
the hospital, who had been abandoned by
her mother?"
Diya could not digest this news, that
something like this had happened in
her company and she had not heard about
it. It seemed surreal, something like in
movies. She was bewildered. It was beyond
her belief, that a mother could abandon her
child. Her mind became a whirlpool of
questions.
Where did the child sleep, where did she shower,
who bought her clothes, how do people treat
her? While her head was befuddled, Remya
narrated the story of the princess!
The mother, a Libyan expat living in the country,
had got pregnant before marriage. She had come
to the hospital already in labour. Post the
delivery, she had walked out of the hospital,
leaving the baby behind. It caused a storm. No
one had been prepared for as it was a private
hospital, not equipped to deal with the future of
the baby. The mother had walked out without a
due cause, the hospital had filed a case against
her, the father had left the country and the little
angel was all at the hands of the hospital to deal
with. It had been a year since then, while the case
was still on, the mother had not returned.
All this information left Diya more perplexed than
ever. Princess Amira's story pulled at her heart's
strings. She could not sit down for one more
second. She wanted to see the baby.
"Let's go see her", rising quickly, Diya said.
As Diya and Remya walked towards the supposed
place of stay of Princess Amira, Diya's heart was
in turmoil. She could not imagine the plight
of the poor little soul.
As they reached the ward, walking towards the
nurses station, Remya asked one of the nurses
where the Princess was. She could see the
nurses face light up. She smiled, "Oh you have
come to see herl!". There was so much delight on
the nurses face.
contd. next page

contd.
She guided them to another area. As they
walked there looking for the little soul, they
stopped by to ask another nurse where
the child was.
Again, a smile came forth on the nurses face
at the mention of the Princess. It seemed
like the baby had become the darling of the
nurses. One o them asked Ramya, who
I was. Diya could see she was protective.
Ramya assured her that she needn't worry.
The nurses, pointed at a door. She was in
there. "That is her room and she is sleeping
right now". We promised we would
have a quick look and come back. Before
entering the room, Diya could not help
wondering, who bought the baby, her
clothes, who put her to sleep, who fed her,
what did she eat? The questions keep
looming in her head.
Love & Humanity transcended all borders,
wherein a child who belonged to another
religion, another nationality, another culture was
loved dearly and truly by the nurses who came
from different backgrounds.
Diya and Ramya returned back to their office.
Princess Amira was the only thing on Diya's mind.
A prayer went out from her soul to thank God for
instilling kindness in everyone and the
organisation for bringing up a child and taking
care of her. For letting Princess Amira be at a
place much better than she would perhaps
have been.
As Diya walked by the corridors of the hospital
everyday, she saw Princess Amira play with the
nurses, laughing, trying to run. A living example
that Love transcends all borders.
The door had a board on it. BABY IS
SLEEPING. As we opened the door. The sight
of the nurse sitting on the lounge chair
reading greeted us. Cartoons were silently
playing on the TV. The room had a large
colourful baby carpet. In the corner, there
was a high rise crib, with pink sheets
surrounded with teddies of all sizes. The
nurse smiled at us, gestured to us that she is
sleeping. As Diya peeked into the crib to find
Princess Amira fast asleep, she turned to
face them in her sleep.
Bless the little soul!! Diya's eyes brimmed
with tears. A sigh of relief. A prayer to Thank
God. What Diya saw, left her heart filled with
gratitude and love of life and people.
Princess Amira, was a healthy chubby child.
You could see the peace in her sleep. She
was cared for and she was loved to bits by all
the nurses.
She lost one mother, but she gained many
more.

EXPERIENCE
SORRY
MAMA
By MINI ANIL, Dubai, UAE
“Yes she is ,“ said Appa nodding his head. When
we got back to our front door. Our living room
was filled with the aroma from the kitchen. All I
remember was dashing to the dining table laden
with all my favorite dishes.
Last Monday was like any other day at school
But the journey back home at the end of the
day turned out to be quite the opposite. I sat
there; my eyes closed. Some of my younger
days flashed before me.
How I wished I could go back home to the
mouth watering aroma of dishes that
awaited my return.
I grabbed the colorful jug of water sitting
down at my dining table and closed my eyes.
Soon I was travelling back, there I was
clutching my Appa's hand, waving to mama
as she was busy in the kitchen.
At the corner of the room was my mama ironing
my school uniform. In her soft voice, smiling, she
asked me to have my breakfast.
My eyes flung open as I heard the door unlock
and saw my son standing before me. Vivid
memories of my mother waiting for me with the
table full flashed in my mind. I missed her
suddenly. My mother who did every household
chore without any modern kitchen gadgets. All
she had was a small recipe book. It did not take
me long to realize how foolish I was when I told
my father that my mother was a fool. She wasn't.
She was simply an amazing mother.
I could still see her smiling. Love you Mama.
“Appa why can’t mama come out for a walk
with us” I asked.
“She will not dear. She is not sensible like us,”
said Appa with a grin.
We walked into the woods, as the sun was
beating down, we reached the riverside at
its broadest place where the leafy trees on
the banks mirrored themselves in the calm
water.
While enjoying the view, I asked again, "Why
can't mama come out of that kitchen?"
‘"Why can't Mama come out of the kitchen?,
Mama is a fool, I continue; "She is missing
out on all these beautiful gifts given by god"

EXPERIENCE
WORDS REMAIN
SHRUTHY MURALEEDHARAN
Dubai, UAE
For long I have speculated on the saying, ‘A word once spoken
cannot be reversed"
The animate and the inanimate worlds both create sounds. But
the human ear cannot hear a large part of it. But I know for sure
that if we try to hear closely, we can definitely listen to what the
mind speaks. The mind, the heart and words are very closely
connected. Some words can create bliss while some, extreme
opposite reactions. At times we end up in situations where we
utter rude words, forgetting to gauge its impact. By the time we
realize it, it would have already caused the harm. They say, we
must always taste our words before speaking them out!
It was during my school days that a friend developed a fascination
for me and without much contemplation he confessed it to me.
I,for my own reasons couldn’t reciprocate it I would explain it to
him many times during the following months. He seemed to be
stuck at it which had started disturbing me and this was slowly
starting to affect my studies.
I was at a friend’s party. My admirer also happened to be there. I
tried to avoid him several times but he came to me, held my hand
and took me to the center of the crowd and proposed his love
again. Any girl in that age would have loved such a moment. I was
in such a bad temper that I pushed him back and bawled at him in
front of everyone. I just couldn’t control my words and went on
uttering whatever I could. I thought it would end there.
I was at peace that I had finally vented my frustration on him.
A few days later, I was feeling guilty for having insulted him the
way I did. I understood his love for me but I couldn’t place him
there. But I still couldn't justify the abuses I hurled at him. There
was no contact with him for weeks but my guilt kept growing as
days went by. I came to know from friends that he had moved on
in life. But I wanted to apologize to him for my behavior.
I picked up the phone and called a common friend. I wanted her
to fix up a meeting with him. I sat their motionless for a long time
upon hearing what she told me over the phone. She would have
anyway called me even if I hadn't.
He had passed away in a road accident.
I would never be able to seek his forgiveness. I may carry that guilt
to my grave. I learnt it the hard way that we need to taste our
words before they slip off our mouths.

THOUGHTS
DIFFERENTLY
RELIGIOUS
By BINDU KRISHNAKUMAR
Chennai, India.
I have always thought that
people with power and money
are the strongest in the world.
Then, going forward, I came
to realize that people with
good thoughts and kind
actions are the most supreme.
As months and years passed
by, I grew up to realize people
who are sincerely religious
and have an unshakable faith
are the most powerful. But
ever since I met and
interacted with a new set of
people, who call themselves
atheists, my perception has
changed. I now choose to
accept that they are actually
the strongest, the ones with
the most inner strength.
Atheists do not depend on
outside forces to feel strong.
They are not complete non
believers either. They do
believe in an universal power
which neither has form, shape
nor color. They do not need
places of worship to make
them feel secure.
Their security stems from
the firm beliefs they have
deep faith in, in being more
human, completely
compassionate and willing
to go to any lengths to help-
Something that I found out
from my interaction with a
few close atheists. They do
not need religion or any
gurus as reasons to serve
and help.Their clarity of
thought defies any
confusion that the rest of
the world may try to create
with questions ,speeches or
books . So sure of
themselves, they walk on
the path created by their
strong beliefs, thoughts and
actions .
I was awestruck, at the way
they kept away fears and
insecurities, because i have
seen most of us believers
succumb to fears and
worries despite having so
many Gods, religious books,
mantras and shlokas as
guidelines to help us to stay
stable and sensible during
the different phases of our
lives.
These good-hearted and
principled atheists have to
be applauded for being
strong and compassionate
people, ever ready to help,
without any discrimination,
anyone who approaches
them.

DEMOCRATIC
BUSINESS
BOOK REVIEW
By LAXMI MENON, Sharjah, UAE
A soul search into the heart of
democratic modern India
explaining its multifaceted
power play and money-abled
manipulations through the
corridors of political structure
is. A feast of vultures by
Investigative journalist Josy
Joseph, is a soul search...
political structure.
Published by Harper Collins
India, this is a book on
politics with its extended
tentacles into the democratic
system supported by middle
men who make a living
through negotiations and cut
deals with government agents
and departments- The living
that should rightfully go to
tax payers and the poor
masses of India.
He cites clear evidences of
those people who are directly
involved in dealing with
politicians, bureaucrats and
other power-laden decision
makers.
These middle men are awfully
well connected and charming
spectacles of the society and
they do work incongruously
with the government system
to bend or change anything in
order to benefit their
benefactors!
The entire book contains but
pure facts and incidents that
happened during the tenures
of various ruling parties and
nothing pointing to a
particular one. He explains
how the poorest of the poor
are deprived of their basic
rights like food, pure
drinking water, sanitary
requirements and a roof
above their heads. Also we
see a very disturbing picture
of how a government
initiative called midday-meal
program for school children
in rural areas is being
robbed off and these kids
are deprived of their one full
meal for the day(perhaps the
only one)! The outcome of
such atrocious manipulations
is that these food items do
not reach the schools and is
bypassed into someone
else’s local store to make a
huge profit by selling it. We
could see the meticulously
researched evidences in
most of the chapters and
baffling truths that stuns the
reader to enquire and read
on! The author has spoken to
many politicians, big
business men, lobbyists and
middlemen and has given an
honest
no-nonsense view of the
power-play that existed in
the capital city through
decades. According to the
author, this book is intended
to be a map for the ordinary
citizens of India and also a
reporter’s true inquiry into
the state of the nation.
Many politicians, huge
business houses and foreign
companies and investors will
find their names linked here
in various deals and projects
associated with the
government departments.
The names are for real which
makes it very direct and, to
the point, for comprehensive
reading.
A well crafted must-read for
the young and old alike, A
feast of vultures is more of a
factual representation of
political mismanagement and
power hungry middle men of
the current times. Very
informative and thorough
research work given by Josy
Joseph who currently works
as the National security
editor of “ The Hindu’News
paper and lives in Delhi with
his family

RUMINATING
PHILOSOPHY
By KRIS IYER, Dubai, UAE
The best of the poems and stories are ways people tried to
express their emotions, love hate, anger and more. Here is a
thought I leave you to ruminate:
I ruminate on the life I lived
I remember fondly the things I did
I live ahead with the smiles I earned
From all the love and smiles I shared.
The word "ruminate" means nothing more than think deeply
about something. You can think about the goodness and
challenges in life to learn life better, you can learn from your
experiences giving it time. Though the word has Latin origin
and means to chew over, like the bovines, I would like to give
it benefit of doubt. Has Rumi left an influence... a man who
thought deeply about things which we do not even think
about. Rumi speaks about love, devotion, loneliness and much
more... is realizing the Rumi in our hearts, another way to
Rumi-nate. Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi has been an
influence for many over the years though he left us way back
in 1273. In his words expressing Love
"However much I might try to expound or explain love, when I
come to Love itself, I am ashamed of my explanations... Love
alone can explain the mysteries of love and lovers"
Thiruvalluvar, another great soul who chose to express his
thoughts in couplets, each of seven words, also used the
medium of words to express his affection towards humanity.
He says that when we have good words in our heart using
abusive language is like eating raw fruits when we have the
sweet ripe ones. The love for the words will make you a better
person for sure. Think about the letters we used to write,
though it would be not applicable to the gen next.
According to Gary Chapman in his article about 5 languages in
expressing affection - a verbal expression of affection is
anything that could be said to or about the other person that
could cause them to feel encouraged, loved, or validated.
This includes, but is not
limited to, the obvious
statement "I love you." Many
people long for this direct
verbal expression of their
spouse's feelings. The
person who looks for verbal
expressions of affection is
happy with a compliment on
appearance, a positive
comment about a tasty meal,
praise of victories achieved,
or verbal support of a
spouse's goals or dreams.
Public praise or admiration
of the spouse, even if it is
not said directly to the
spouse (either it is overheard
or relayed by someone),
enhances the feelings of love
felt by the recipient.
In many Indian languages
words are termed as
“AKSHAR” which means
something which cannot be
destroyed, and we know its
power even to destroy.
Expression of love is not in
just words but emotions. And
emotions run deep, from a
heart to another.
But never stop trying to
express your love, even
through words. Ruminate ....
say it… express it…

PARABLE OF THE
PHILOSOPHY
PIPELINE
This happened many years ago; we had just finished school and there was a brief hiatus before
we started college. Though at school we were nothing more than brats, we did have one teacher
we adored and respected. So a group of us friends decided to visit her at her home one last time
before we went our respective ways.
By RAJSHEKHAR G, Dubai, UAE
We arrived at her doorstep at the appointed time, and she took us in, she fed us sumptuously
and then we were sitting around her fireplace, spending one last hour chit-chatting about this
and that, when finally, one of the boys - I forget who exactly it was - said: “Madam, we love you
and have a great respect for you; there are so many things you have taught us in these years. Do
you have any message for us, any piece of advice that we could take with us and that would help
us in our future careers?”
Madam thought for a while, and then said, “Well, then - I will tell you a story - would you want
that?” We had learnt so many of her lessons through her stories that we were more than willing,
and after our resounding “yes!!” she commenced:
“Imagine this world, many centuries ago, when men were still nomads - there were no villages or
towns, and families migrated often. I am talking of one such family - let’s call the hero of our
story Ramu (after her loyal and hard-working servant) - and Ramu’s family has settled down along
with many other families around a large lake. They have been living in that place for a few years
now, and it is a daily habit of Ramu’s father to go to the lake and fetch two buckets of water and
give it to Ramu’s mother who would then use that water to do all the household work, including
cooking, washing, cleaning, etc. Two buckets were enough for one day, so Ramu’s father was
obliged to go to the lake every day in the morning to get the water. This went for many years, and
Ramu was growing up to be a strong, able-bodied young man.
One day, Ramu’s father called him to his side and said, “Son, I am growing old. I have fetched
water from the lake every day for many years, and now I can no longer do it. You are young and
strong, and I want you to take over this task for us. You start tomorrow morning.”
So from early next morning, Ramu began going to the lake like his father used to, fetched two
buckets of water, handed them over to his mother, and only then was he free to go and play with
his friends. After a few days of this work, Ramu had an idea; he thought, why should we do such
hard work when we can do something smarter? He was a new generation kid, after all!”
So he went up to his father and said, “Father, you have been a hard-working man all your life, and
I am willing to work equally hard. But there are many productive things that I could do. How
would it be if instead of lugging the water on my shoulder everyday I did something so that the
water came to our home on its own without all the everyday effort?”
“Now, I ask you - what would Ramu’s father think?

He came to the conclusion that his son had turned lazy; he was trying to avoid the hard work and
that was why he was talking in this manner. So he said to Ramu, “Son, we have been doing things
this way for years - for centuries! Do you think we were fools to do that if an easier way existed?
What fanciful talk is this? How can water come into our home on its own? Does water have legs,
or has it started listening to you?” After that, he would have no more of the discussion; he
scolded Ramu for being lazy and foolish, and banished him from his presence, bidding that he
continue fetching the two buckets of water as he was told to.
Dejected, Ramu returned to his task. But after a few more days of the hard labor, he had another
thought. He said to himself, “These old people, this old generation - they won’t believe anything
until they see proof. So let me provide them proof that water surely can come to our homes.” So
from then on, Ramu changed his routine once more: each day, after fetching the water, he would
not go out to play with his friends as was his habit; instead, he took out his pick-axe and his
shovel and started digging in front of his home. This went on for a few days before Ramu’s father
noticed it; he asked Ramu’s mother, and then both were perplexed; but when they asked Ramu,
the lad refused to tell them anything, saying, “Mother! Father! You won’t understand. Just let me
be.” But a few days later, his friends started missing him, and they came over to ask. When they
saw him hard at work digging a ditch, they were baffled. To even their questions he responded
cryptically; he said, “Friends, I don’t have time for frivolity and jollity; I am working on an
important project, and beg you not to disturb me or trouble me. Please do what you want and let
me do what I want to do.”
Soon, Ramu became the talk of the town; people gossiped behind his back. They referred to him
as a crank and pitied the parents whose son had gone stark raving mad at the prime of his youth.
His parents could not go anywhere in the village without being taunted by someone. He was, in
short, the laughing stock of the entire village. But undeterred, he continued - and days turned
into weeks, and then weeks into months - and one day, his ditch reached the lake! Water gushed
forth from the lake into his home, and he watered all the plants and filled the buckets to his
heart’s content. He then put a make-shift tap - a valve so that he could control the flow, and
water could be had as and when required.”
Madam looked at us, and asked, “So Ramu built a pipeline to his home; what do you think the
others did?” As was our habit, we answered together: “So everyone else started building their
own pipeline as well!. Yes, said the teacher. “So, what is the lesson you learnt from this
story?” Someone said: “It tells me to do something extra - not to depend on just your job or
something, but also build a business. Um .. hmm … that’s true. What else?” As we waited, she
enumerated: “Lesson One: When you have an idea, a vision, don’t wait for others to approve of it
- if you believe in yourself and the idea, then just go ahead and do it.”
We murmured in agreement. “Lesson no. 2: when you do something different, something out - of
- the - ordinary - don’t expect others to understand or sympathize; in fact, they will actively
discourage and dissuade you, or just ignore you - till you succeed, they will never see what you
are able to see. You may have to rely only on your gut instinct. Yes, we murmured, a very
valuable lesson.”
“Lesson no. 3: when you embark on some work of significance - a dream you wish to fulfil - then
expect that you may have to sacrifice - your leisure time and your relaxing time. You may have to
stop watching TV, partying, or clubbing - and put in hours and hours of hard work when others
around you are enjoying themselves. Hmmm…” many of us said, nodding. “And the most
important lesson: this applies to every sphere of life, not just business. Go that extra mile - do all
you need to do for something, and then do some more: and don’t ever quit, don’t get discouraged
by temporary hardship or failure - keep doing it till you succeed. So, said our beloved teacher as
she saw us through the door, “one story with so many lessons!!"

COLORS OF LIFE
DUBAI
INTERNATIONAL
KITE FEST
By Classic Concepts
Laugh!!

Photograph by
Sujil Chandra Bose
Dubai. UAE
sujilchandrabose@gmail.com

A PAIR OF SHOES
B y S A N D H Y A R A M , G o a , I n d i a
Which mother wouldn’t rejoice at the first toddle of her
child! My son had just started walking. He would stand up,
balance and move forward with a force. He would walk till
he falls down and would raise his face, look at me and smile.
Like how Yasodha saw the universe in her son’s mouth, any
mother would find the world condensed in such smiles of
her children. We bought him a pair of shoes which blinks
and squeaks whenever his tiny feet would presses the earth.
He felt encouraged to walk more, squeaking all the while,
with a smile.
It was on one such evening that I took him out for a walk.
On the road side, I saw two children outside their small shed
house, sitting on the edge of the canal and swinging their
feet. I had noticed earlier that their mother, Laxmi a tall lean
woman, does the domestic top up for many of the houses
nearby. I looked at them and continued assisting my toddler
who was in full glee at having hit the roads. The younger
child, aged about three and the elder one, who looked about
seven, having seen us, got up and approached us. I had got
my son in my arms having seen a bike coming towards us.
The younger boy touched Aadi's shoes and pressed it
making it squeak. The elder one pulled his brother and led
him away. He turning back and eyed the shoes one more
time. I felt guilty for reasons I could not comprehend. I had
always felt this guilt, even as a child when we opened our
shopping booty before Nesamma. I would discreetly remove
the price tags from my stuff before I used them. I feared
of Vimala coming across it.
That night I told my husband that we should get a pair of
shoes each for those children. A couple of days later I saw
the children sitting at the same place under the tamarind
tree, by the canal. This time the younger child was wearing a
pair of transparent blue plastic sandals and the elder one
was examining them. Seeing me, the younger one smiled at
me. His brother, bare footed, looked at me, his eyes filled
with pride. I smiled at them. I saw Laxmi’s smiling face
through the tears which had blinded me by then.

S C H O O L F R I E N D S ' S C R I B B L E
The
Pirate
B y M i t h u n S
M i t h u n i s a G r a d e 9 s t u d e n t o f
B h a v a n ' s S c h o o l , G i r i N a g a r , C o c h i n ,
I n d i a .
Holding a cutlass
Killed many with it he has
Mouth filled with rotten teeth
He is as tall as six feet.
Red, ugly and bulging eyes
When he opens his mouth, out
Flows a stream of lies.
A heart of stone
A ship and a crew his own
A bloodthirsty lot they are,
Their mangy eyes can not see far.
But they shall not last long
Soon people will be singing their
Funeral song.
N O M A D I C | 2 4

Painting by
Nisar Ibrahim
Dubai, UAE
nizararc@gmail.com

MY SUCY
B Y R A N I J O H N S O N , T r i v a n d r u m , I n d i a
The month of December At the CMC Hospital, Vellore cannot
be forgotten by any one who has been there during the
period. It is freezing and windy with everyone hiding in their
sweater and monkey masks. People smoking cigars and
sipping hot coffee or tea was a sight of a feeble fight against
the power of nature.
My dad was recouping after a renal transplant. My wouldbe
mother in law and my fiancee had informed me about a
cousin named Sucy, who was fighting leukaemia, was being
driven from Kerala to CMC. The drive was long and so was the
waiting. We waited near the Chapel hoping for her early
arrival. Since mobile phones were not in use those
days, the telephone booths inside the post office at the
hospital premises were crowded. Trunk calls were made,
telegrams, post cards, envelopes and inland letters were
being sent!
Sucy was brought in an ambulance. The trip must have been
tiring. She was shifted onto a creaky stretcher. I saw her
searching eyes locking into mine. We talked nothing. Smiling, I
walked up to her. She held my hands, her fingers slowly
tightening around mine. The stretcher moved and her grip
tightened, pulling me along. She was accompanied by her
three brothers and mother. I was meeting them all for the
first time. We had exchanged glances of acknowledgment till
then. Sucy was taken for tests right away, starting with the
painful Bone marrow extraction. I heard her writhing in pain.
Some time later, she came out withered, her brothers
walking out and her mother wiping her tears. I looked at Sucy
and smiled. I saw her eyes shining. There was no room for
sadness there. There were dreams, hope and a strong heart.
Nothing could stop her. Blood oozed from her mouth, nose,
eyes and through the root of her hair follicles. I helped wipe
out a tangled mass of blood and saliva which suffocated her.
Something made me stay back. I felt she needed me. We
talked a lot. There were no mention of sickness. Sucy showed
me the embroidery she did on her dress and promised me
one when she got back home. She told me how she wanted to
have a family and kids. We laughed a lot. Time seemed to
freeze for her. Every minute she spent was precious.
She left for heaven a few days later. She couldn't embroider
my dress. But, she taught me how to be strong.

The Rasaleela
by Sindhu Rajeev,
Bangalore, India
Sindhu hails from Tripunitura and lives in Bangalore. She started painting from the age
of 5 and has developed her own style in brushwork. She specializes in Oil and Mural
paintings. A committed artist, she spends over 5 hours daily, painting and has
produced a huge body of art, which she proudly displays at her place.
She can be contacted on +91 87627 09752
rajeev_ig@yahoo.com

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