Confessions from a Cairo Cab

 “We parted with a long hug, am sure he had tears, well; I didn't want to show mine. He looked me in the eyes and said ‘Will you ever come back?’  I didn't reply but I just said ‘Insha Allah’ and smiled back at his face. He pulled out my trench coat and gave it to me. I gave another hug and we parted. I gave a last look at the cab, that little black and yellow metal box wasn't just a car, it was just more than that.”

It’s a pleasant autumn of October 2008. I am happily seated inside a A340 Egypt Air on my way to the Land of the Pharaohs. The flight was late by an hour and for the first time in my life; I was being served food even before the flight had taken off. It was a bland Arabic blend of bread and salads. I had enough of it. Just ate what I can and slipped my head on the pillow by my side awaiting my lovely trip ahead of me.

Landing in Cairo :)

At 5:40 early in the morning I landed in Cairo International Airport, it was quite a chill morning and I didn’t have a clue of what awaited me beyond the doors of the airport. After sharing some humor by the immigration counter I was outside at the door step of Cairo what looked like a taxi market with all kind of makes and models. The taxi’s of Cairo are nothing my metal boxes made during the 70’s and the ones which were running were just the ones which have managed to have their 4 wheels connected to the engine. I cannot explain otherwise of how these are called. 

Inside my hand bag was my secret weapon of choice, 4 sheets of paper crumbled into one piece stuck deep down my bag to give maximum security. I looked around is despair on which taxi I should take, it was a crazy sight when a 100 drivers storm you and your mind is frozen. I just said no and started walking to the end of the road.

Far away I saw a middle aged man sitting on the bonnet of his taxi and looking at the sky. He seemed carefree of the world and had no intension of driving for the rest of the day. I saw his face closely and he was talking to himself about something. I slowly walked towards him and and for the first time in my life I took it out my paper and read my first words of Arabic to this man. I said ‘Oreed an azhab fondoq Dokki?’ I didn’t even know if I sounded right or wrong. The man turned his head towards me and gave me a top down look and asked me in English ‘Did you just speak to me in Arabic?’ I replied ‘Well I didn’t, I think I tried’ he smiled back and said ‘you’re good!’ I felt nice within, glad to know my first attempt paid off.

After we negotiated the prices I looked at his car which ended up being a 1970′s something beat up Renault. I sat up front and showed him the address to the hotel I had booked that I had written down on the back of a brochure from the terminal. The driver smiled and spoke in broken English to me, I just assumed that he knew where the damn hotel was, but as soon as we reached a red light he asked me to wind down my window, and then he asked the driver for guidance in the cab next to him as I was busy trying to locate a map, and since my driver wasn’t paying attention to his front side he rear ended the car in front of him.  Luckily since it was a habit I always had my safety belts on.  My driver’s cigarette flew out of his mouth and landed in the crack between the windshield and the dash.  Immediately the car in front of him pulled over, my cab driver pulled up next to him and yelled out in Arabic that “everything is okay, just minor damage.” I turned my head and noticed pieces of plastic tail light and bumper cover on the road.  To me this was much more than minor damage; I could still feel the wreck in my neck.  My driver continued on before the other driver was able to notice the damage he had caused. At this point I was really tired and starting laughing hysterically. Not because it was funny, but because it was ridiculous that this had happened five minutes after my stepping foot outside of the airport.

At the next traffic light the car my cabbie rear ended caught up to us, he pulled up next to my side of the car demanding that I roll down my window; I looked at my cabbie for his input. He nodded his head, as if to say, go ahead roll it down. Mind you I still had a smirk on my face from the hysterics I had experienced moments ago. I rolled down my window about half way. The other driver continued to swear at my driver in Arabic. I tried looking straight forward as to stay neutral. The driver of the damaged car must have noticed my grin and asked me in broken English “what fucking you laugh and smile for, my car no good you guy” I turned to the driver and told him the light was green. He had his pedal in his hand, I mean he literally had them in his hands and when he sat down he attached it to the top of the metal and started driving and following us through the congested streets of Cairo and all of a sudden my driver took speed and we lost that guy. Am sure one day or the other, that fellow will come back to haunt our cab.

Somehow I finally got dropped near Dokki and while he was keeping my luggage out I thanked him for being kind and getting me safe. He looked at me and smiled back and said, ‘Amidst a 100 drivers you left them alone and came to me’ why? I was a little taken aback that he had to ask that… But hmmm I replied saying ‘I too love looking at the sky at times, I know there is nothing up there, but I look up to something which gives me a smile’ maybe that’s why it made me come to you.

He came close to me and gave me an Arabic hug and asked me if this was my firs time to Egypt, I replied ‘yes’ he said ‘if you keep your luggage and come back down in 5 minutes I will show you something very beautiful to look up to’ I was surprised at his angle of thought. I said, what it is, he replied ‘5 minutes’. I looked up again and came close and asked him his name for the first time, he held my hand and said ‘It’s Mohamed’. I said ‘I’m Vasanth, nice to meet you Mohamed’. He smiled and replied ‘5 minutes’ hearing that I rushed inside the hotel. 

Tahrir Square Bridge

I changed my clothes and ran down and he was waiting down smiling. I got into our same beaten up car and I asked him with excitement on where he was taking me. He said, ‘just wait’. He took a few roads and stopped by a coffee shop and asked me to check it out. We both got down and walked down to the coffee shop. A steep step took us down to the base and suddenly I looked out and I saw this huge body of water in front of me. I looked at him with a face of awe, it was the mighty River Nile in front of me. It was one of those simple but breathtaking moments. I grabbed his hands and ran inside to see more. It was a coffee shop built on a barge which was docked and floating on the river Nile. I sat on the barge and looked around me. The whole of my life flowed in front of me. The feeling of your heart running wild like a river is a feeling each of us have when we see the miracle of nature and how small we are in front of the almighty’s creations. The Nile was beautiful; I and Mohamed stayed there till evening and enjoyed those wonderful few moments of our little sweet lives. For once I forgot who this man was, good or bad. I enjoyed his company and believed in the good that was beside us and drank and yapped away to glory. Mohamed shared a lot of his life’s stories to me, his family, about his car and we laughed about a million different stories and the thoughts of a free heart were very much filled within me and these are what you call those miraculous encounters while being present in the moment watching the simple yet curious happenings of life in a big city where things are… a bit different. 

The next day I was leaving to Alexandria and I will be missing Cairo for the next 4 days. Before heading out back to the airport Mohamed wrote his number on a small piece of paper and shoved it into my shirt pocket and said ‘call me when your back in town, whatever you might need’. I opened my handbag and took out 2 packets of KitKat and gave it him and asked him to share it with his kids. He gave me a dazzled look and said, ‘Please don’t give me such costly things, please take it back’ I smiled and asked him it was for him and no-one else. He gave a hug and thanked me and I waved him a loving goodbye and started walked inside the bus terminal.

After 4 wonderful days of touring, I was back in my hotel busy packing up for my evening flight back to Dubai. I was shifting through the entire mess I had made and hurrying up with the packing. While packing my dress, I felt something from one of the shirt pockets, and I took out this small piece of paper. It had Mohamed’s number on it.  I thought about him and smiled and kept it back into my shirt pocket. My flight was at 9pm and the time was already 6:50pm and I had to rush down with my luggage and clear out the formalities with the hotel for the check out. I somehow managed all of it and rushed back to the road. The clock was ticking at 07:01pm. I was sure going to be late, I tried stopping every other taxi but no one would stop of even heed to the trauma I was going through. My heart was pounding and as I breathed I felt the paper hitting on my chest. I took it out and ran back into the hotel to try and give a call to Mohamed.

The Taxi :)

It was 20minutes since I called and there was no sign of Mohamed in those chaotic streets of Cairo. My heart was pounding as each second ticked me by. And somewhere down the lane I lost hope and I was literally begging for taxi’s on the road when suddenly I saw a burst of light and a screams of noise from a horn in a distance, I lifted my head and looked closely, it was Mohamed  zooming his way down those chaotic roads. Within seconds he parked right in front of me and through the window yelled ‘you thought I’d never come didn’t you?’  - ‘For the last few seconds, I really did’ I replied and smirked. To the airport Mohamed fast I said and off we flew within those congested and chaotic traffic of Cairo.

I sat at the back seat and placed by head on the window looking out to a lovely city, the home of the Nile and giving thought to the lovely people I’ve met, the wonderful places have seen and to most of all the friendship I have shared with a man who I might never ever see again. Sometimes the richness of our very lives, found in the blink of an eye when we really pay attention to what’s going on around us can be so profound, we hardly can explain ourselves of the beauty it beholds. 

I’ve spent so many years traveling this globe… experiencing life and its precious moment… pioneering creative life that in itself brought about deep wisdom for understanding the organic processes of change and creativity… And my knowing has come through miraculous experiences in countless foreign situations – in the moment – where I knew no more than what was right in front of me, as I learned to respond in a flash, to make the changes that would come. This is the mastery I developed along the way… and now, I am knowing, it’s time certain stories come to an end, just in time for something else to begin!

I got down at the airport and Mohamed took out and placed my luggage’s in the trolley in front of me. I looked up at the airport and looked at him. He slowly opened the front door and took out a small parcel and gave it to me. I opened it partially and saw a shawl wrapped in paper, even before I could ask, he said, ‘I’m sorry I came late because I had to buy it and come’.  I closed my mouth and apprehended in myself that “Sometimes it's the same moments that take your breath away that breathe purpose and love back into your life.”

Mohamed and Myself - Our last picture together :)

“We parted with a long hug, am sure he had tears, well; I didn’t want to show mine. He looked me in the eyes and said ‘Will you ever come back?’ I didn’t reply but I just said ‘Insha Allah’ and smiled back at his face. He pulled out my trench coat and gave it to me. I gave another hug and we parted. I gave a last look at the cab, that little black and yellow metal box wasn’t just a car, it was just more than that.”

A part of my incredible journey shared for Indiblogger's “Incredible Stories” contest sponsored by: http://www.mahindraxuv500.com

Lost in a bottle

That night I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I just smiled at life, everywhere I can.

I started believing in the moments of life, specially those little ones which we miss seeing. The ones which pass us and we're never the same ever again. We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware—beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.“The greatest discoveries have come from people who have looked at a standard situation and seen it differently.” 

It was a snowy night on the eve of New Years and we 4 boys were driving from Vancouver all the way upto Calgary National Park in our new Ford F-150 and I swear, the amount of snow we had was un-imaginable… But still it was always a dream for all of us to get there by car and to reach there by New Years. And with that dream driving us, we started our lovely journey….

Myself and Martin were university buddies, where as Mike and Brady were roommates and since we all knew each other well, we choose to do this road trip all across the state of British Colombia. And we were so damn excited about the whole journey. We started packing the week before and still felt we had to carry more. Because the temperature dropped down to -4 we were so sure we need winter clothes and that the snow is going to torment us with all its fury, we packed special gear for the same.

As we started driving, we took the Trans Canada Highway – the famous national highway which connects the east coast to the west coast and is one of the most famous highways in the whole world. The road till Kamloops was awesome, we roomed in at 90mph and after that the forest areas had started and driving went a little slower than expected.

After 6 hours we reached Banff which is the border town of Alberta and British Colombia and we had a lovely sip of hot coffee and we refreshed ourselves from the tiring journey. There was a big KFC in Banff which all 4 of us couldn’t resist, so we thought we could have a lovely dinner and we packed a full 4buckets of meat with cola and all which make a happy meal for us 4. While we 4 boys got back to the car I never realized that Mike and Brady had packed raw liquor for all of us. And there was a full 2 boxes of beer, good enough to have us all in jail for the rest of the year. Little did I know that all of this stuff was in the back of our truck. Well, we started driving again and a few hours later at around 11:40pm we reach Valley wood, one of the out towns of Calgary and surprisingly it was very much woody and the snow was making it horrible for us to navigate through.. We had no clue which was land and which was road. After a while there was a checkpost in a distance. Since I was completely obsolete with what was in the back of my truck, I happily pulled over the check post and showed my license and registration to the cop standing by. The cop was busy on his mobile radio and asked us to wait for 5mins. And after around 10mins in the dark he came over with a torch in his hand and opened the back door and asked Mike to get down, he saw the 4 buckets of KFC and then he pointed his torch over the other side and asked what that was?? We all looked over and it was a whole bottle of Vodka sitting right there and I was flabbergasted when Mike opened his mouth on his own and said, he has only 2 shots…. !!!

I looked at Martin’s face and I didn’t know what to say… I felt like chocking Mike and killing him for what he just did. In a few moments, Brady came close to me and said, “I just pray he doesn’t check what’s behind the truck; I said “Why what’s wrong with the back of the truck?” He said, “there are 4 bottles of Rum and whiskey and another 2 boxes full of beer” After hearing this I literally fainted. For a minute I had flash thoughts of me in jail with my parents crying and screaming, my dad trying to shoot me, my girlfriend breaking up and what not!!! I realized that this was my last New Years in the free land of North America. 

While all of us got down, we were all asked to sit inside the police car.  I got down along with my new Nikon camera, I had just got it from the boxing sale and it was brand new. It had a lovely 16 shutters per second and was an amazing machine. I was just looking at the few last pictures of my life which I took before I was being thrown in jail. While the officer was trying to check the others for documents and writing a report to place us on arrest, there was a sudden headlight zooming our way, and it got even more intense with the passing of every second.

In a few seconds, the zooming headlight, crashed inches away from us, injuring the officer and throwing him on the side of the road, the car crashed the post and drove away. I somehow I managed to take ma camera and take 2 shots of the back of the car. Even though we tried to go and attend to the officer, we couldn’t open the back door of the car, since it was a police car.

After a few moments the injured officer with wounds on his hands and shoulder came over and opened the door and yelled in the radio of what has just happened. He spoke that he didn’t know who it was or what make the car was… In that moment I slowly said to the officer “Sir, if you need can I show you the picture of the back of the car which I took?” He looked at me and said “What?? Are you sure you have it with you?” I said, yes I managed to take 2 shots of the car’s back side. He quickly took the camera and read the number plate to the central operator. After 15 minutes, the officer came over and opened the back door and asked all 4 of us to come out. He smiled at us, and looked at me in the eye and said.. “Son, we have caught that mongrel and he was the guy who burgled last week in one of the shops in the city” and I thank you for helping us nab him. Your quick thinking really saved our day. He returned my documents and thanked us once more. Mike in the meantime, took out the 4 buckets of KFC chicken and said lets celebrate, so the officer and us all enjoyed our New Years eve in check post deep down Canadian winter land and I was still praying that he shouldn’t check the back of the truck…!!

Finally at 1am that morning on the 1st of January 2007 we reach Calgary National Park and we drove deep into the woods to set up tent and after laughing over about all what happened, I asked the rest of the fellows to open the bottles, and Mike replied, we have none..!! I said “What?? You said you took 4 bottles of liquor, where are they? Mike replied, while the officer was checking his stuff on the radio, I was quietly throwing the bottles one by one into the leafy woods.” I looked at Mike and smiled and said “So beer it shall be boys” and we all jumped into our beer cans and lifted them high in the air yelled our cheers and laughed and danced around our little camp fire deep in the woods.

Boys and Girls, your lives are what you make of it, so go out and enjoy it with your best and make sure you make memorable moments with your loved ones. Life is once; never miss it as it passes - “Leave the beaten track occasionally and dive into the woods. Every time you do so you will be certain to find something that you have never seen before. Follow it up, explore all around it, and before you know it, you will have something worth thinking about to occupy your mind. All really big discoveries are the results of thought”.

Live and Let Go

My grand dad reading from a piece of book once read “It would be better if, instead of a thousand words there was only one, a word that brought Peace. It would be better if, instead of a thousand poems, there was only one, a poem that revealed true beauty. It would be better if, instead of a thousand songs, there was only one, a song that spread happiness, and therefore to stay with one, you need to let go of the rest” To "let go" is to fear less and to love more.

How many times in my life, and how many times have you in your lives let go? Think about those million moments which has passed your life, just because you had to let go of them. You let go of your age, to let go of your short pants, to let go of your pain, your emotional bags and sometimes even letting go of your very own happiness, just so that someone else can have a smile.  Letting go unknowingly becomes an integral part of our little sweet lives. Once in a while we feel bad that we have done it for someone near and dear, but remember "letting go" is not to regret the past, but to grow and live for the future.

* Listen to this beautiful song as you read it : The Snow Before Us 

These following words, ‘Letting Go’, ‘Releasing’  ‘Moving on’ These are words that come to mind when holding on to the status quo becomes too painful or takes too much energy in ones life. We do eventually waste a lot of time thinking on the events which we have let go. But the best of part of life begins with the word letting go…

Even when we're ready, it's seldom easy to let go. But when we do, both we and the other person can become the people we were meant to — love without feeling we must control or be dependent on the other for our happiness. The healing and release we feel when we're finally able to truly let go can't happen, however, until we allow a shift to occur within us, until we're ready for a new way of looking at things, a perspective that each one of us has to dearly carry in our hearts and minds to move us in a way forward.

We move in this so called society with total stochasticity, we have no control over whom we meet or who we give ourselves into. At times we make the best of mistakes rightfully knowing that we have no choice but to do it.  How many of us think of a choice and decide our actions?

How many of us foresee what’s in store for us? Our actions, our mind have a lot more to do with what and who we are.

Here’s a Thought:

THOUGHT EXPERIMENT. Take a moment, relax, breathe deeply and imagine you are a mountain climber. Visualize how you look dressed in your mountain climbing gear.

You are climbing one of the largest mountains in the world and are very close to reaching the peak. This is a goal you've had all your life. You’ve prepared yourself physically and mentally to reach this goal by constant training for years. You feel strong and great. You are about to begin the final stretch to the peak, when you decide to rest on a small ledge which juts out about three feet from the mountain. There is a sheer vertical drop beneath the ledge. You fasten yourself securely to the ledge.

You see another climber approaching you from below. Eventually he reaches the ledge. He lifts himself up and sits down next to you on the ledge. “Wow,” he says, looking over the edge, “It’s a long way down.” He’s wearing a rope tied around his waist and holds the loose end in his hands. He holds out the end of the rope and says, “Take this. Hold it tight and whatever you do, don’t let go.”

You take the rope and, to your surprise the man stands up and jumps over the side of the ledge yelling, “Don’t let go! I’ll fall thousands of feet if you do.” You hold on with all your strength. The man is suspended over the ledge, and sure to die if he fell.

You try to pull him up but he is too heavy. You offer suggestions about how he could climb back up the rope hand over hand. The man shouts back, “Hold on. Don’t let go. If you let go, I’ll die.” You tug and pull but nothing works. The afternoon is beginning to fade. It’s getting colder and the wind is blowing harder. You have to do something; otherwise you’ll not reach the peak which you can see through the mist and clouds.

You think of a way the man can wrap the rope around himself and eventually pull himself up and shout the instructions. The man replies, “No, please, please don’t let go. I’ll fall to my death if you do.”

You coax, wheedle, scream, and yell at the climber all to no avail. You realize you are running out of time, and if you don’t do something, you will not reach the mountain peak. Finally, in desperation you shout the instructions one more time and say, “If you don’t do this, I’m going to let go of the rope.”

The man responded, “No, No, please hold on. If you let go, I’ll die. Just hang on tight.”

You let go of the rope and climb to the peak of the mountain.

***

Now, take a moment, and think about the scenario. What is it in your life that you are holding on to that is represented by the climber? What is it that you are holding on to so tightly that it is keeping you from getting on with your life? Think about that thing at the end of the rope and think about what it would mean to let go of it? Was it worth staying stuck in order to keep that thing at the end of the rope alive? What really would happen if you let go of it?

Once you can imagine yourself letting go of the climber, you feel a tremendous emotion. The power of metaphors lies in the fact that they speak in the more primary process of the unconscious mind. Metaphors encourage unconscious processing of information.  This will make it easier for you to really “let go” of your fears and past traumatic experiences by visualizing this story over and over.

Considering that we spend most of our lives in a slowly deteriorating physical shell, this pursuit is an exercise in frustration. This desire for physical perfection arises out of fear. Fear of not being pretty enough. Good enough. Desirable enough. And, of course, fear is at the root of unhappiness. Some will spend their lives chasing financial wealth, only to wake up one day and discover that all they’ve created is emotional and spiritual poverty. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with being wealthy, except when that wealth defines us. If only we taught our kids (and ourselves) that being rich has nothing to do with money or material possessions. Some of us have spent years (and years) trying to ‘find’ ourselves.

Maybe it’s time to stop looking and simply let go of everything that isn’t us? When I let go of everything I am trying to do, be, create and own, there I am. And while I might do, be, create and own much in my life, I am none of those things and they are not me. I can’t be found in things. And neither can you.

Remember, you have already started letting go, right from the time you were born… You left your womb to gracefully enter this beautiful world, and one day you’d have to let go of what’s yours to the eternal unknown and in between that period what good you had held upon close to your heart is all what will matter to you!!

“It’s not about giving in or giving up. Letting go isn’t about loss and it’s not about defeat. To let go is to cherish the memories, but to overcome and move on. It is having an open mind confidence in the future. Letting go is learning and experiencing and growing. To let go is to be thankful for the experiences that made you laugh, made you cry, and made you grow. It’s about all that you have, all that you had, and all that you will soon gain. Letting go is having the courage to accept change, and the strength to keep moving.
Letting go is growing up.”

The Winter of Sweet November

 From The Globetrekker Diaries – Nordica

"Do you want me to tell you something really subversive?

Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. It becomes that something which is so worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. It's what makes people travel miles, that search and that journey which drives them towards that something which they feel they belong to.... Where miles mean nothing and money is zilch... All that ever matters is being with that someone you so cherish, that someone who completes you and the trouble is, if your don't risk anything, you just risk even more" 

It was November, for me; the sweetest month of all. A journey I so looked forward to is finally here and I can't wait the excitement it carried for. With my heart drumming with its midnight moments, I moved into the car and the driver welcomed me with a warm smile, I requested him to take me to Terminal 1 and as we drove we spoke about the upcoming holidays and his life and about my trip to the North of the Europe…. As the shades of the city dimmed down, the car slowly entered the terminal buildings and I took my leather jacket, while the driver helped me with my luggage. I took out some cash and snuggled up into his warm palms and wished him a happy Eid. He smiled and wished me back with delight and waved me farewell.

I boarded my flight and a Texas man sat next to me, he wished me with a ‘hi’ and we both shared compliments along with where and why we were travelling and quite an interesting man he was….His name was Hardy and he works as a plumber in the 42^nd U.S Marine division in Fort Bastion in Afghanistan. After 6 months of heart wrenching work and struggle, he is now on his way to his hometown, but the story doesn’t end there. Back in the U.S his wife also works as a Army nurse with the 2^nd Battalion of the U.S Marines medical unit in Kandahar, Afghanistan and right now, she is finishing her 6 months of leave, taking care of the kids and the house. And the most impacting part of it was, right now, that woman is travelling all the way to Bahrain to meet her husband and she will be on her way to Afghanistan to re-start her duty with the U.S Marines. And that 3hours of transit they get in Bahrain International airport is all what they can see for the next 6 months. When he told me about his story, I didn’t know if the meaning of sacrifice was ever described this deep. I looked into his eyes and said, well mate; you sure make your country proud and am sure your kids back home will be so overwhelmed to see their dad come home with a big smile…. He shook my hands and said “The American spirit wears no political label. In service to others and yes, in sacrifice for my country, there are no Republicans; there are no Democrats; in the end, there is just me, as an American.” I looked up and smiled at him while the pilot announced that we’d be landing in another 5 minutes. From the window, I could see the lovely lights of Manama.

I sat down at Costa’s and sipping my coffee, I thought about this day I was waiting to unfold, a journey I so looked forwarded to, the people am about to meet, the food I am going to taste and most of all the colors which are going to paint my eyes, those blissful mesmerizing moments which cannot be described nor asked for, but just felt and melted down your heart stream. Travel can sometimes be such an addiction; every piece of it instills an impulse of discovery within you. The art of growing up is nothing but letting go of yourself from where you belong, to throw you away from your home and then lift you up and show you those panoply of moments which can be just yours if you just go for it.

I smiled within as my heart drummed up even more and I heard the voice from the speaker saying it was gates open for the flight, and I lifted the handle of my little leather case and walked my way to the aircraft and my soul whispered “In a matter of 7 hours, the breeze will be as chill as falling snow and the colors of fall will embrace me with delight” I look forward to…..

The flight landed and as I walked out of the Terminal, the breeze was as much as I loved it to be, a chill snowy gush of fresh breeze flew across me and in front of me was the Nordic. I finally feel it, I am here now!

I picked up my red suitcase from the belt and pulled down my little brown case and walked out to give a tight hug to a few of my best friends who were eagerly waiting on the other side to receive me….It was a lovely moment to make up those 5000 miles just to get here, somewhere beyond those thousand miles lies a warm thought that your away from the chaos of work and madness and your finally in bliss at least for just a week.

Scandinavia is ecstasy filled with colors and that’s how I would call it…. The colors, the people and the graffiti just make it one of the most revered places to me. The climate during fall is just amazing and the all you have to do is keep warm and walk away to where your heart leads to. The world is on the move and there is nothing you need to think than the list of places you want to see. Have a walk and keep discovering, that’s all you need to do.

I got a lovely Jacobson Creek white wine for the last day…. Even though I never wanted that day to come, I know it has already started as soon as I put my foot there. Well nevertheless time is an uncontrollable, unexplainable moment of events which just make up a big part of our little sweet lives and there is nothing better than filing those best of moments into a piece of your memory and labeling them as the best to be. I placed the wine in the center of the table to remind that all of life’s best moments have to be celebrated and rejoiced, for who are here with you now, might not be there tomorrow and to picture a moment of that celebration is one of the best things life can award you with.

One week is all what I have in front of me and this one week is all what I want - Eat, Love and Travel is all what I think I should do.....

To Eat:

“There are times I stood there watching the kitchen table dreaming of what to do and I run across to the side window and look down the empty street for 10 flat minutes and I know exactly what to do”

I am not great in cooking, but I love to do what I have learnt, I know it’s not always the best, but its all about what you want to do and most of all for who it is….. All those mix of spices and colors and taste’s mean so much when you know that at the end there is a lovely smile pending as you look at people’s lips tasting what you have done.. The best of life comes as a part of eating food and when you learn it best, it always works wonders in life. As far as I know, there isn’t a moment a lovely food has spoilt a soul…… Before I traveled I didn’t even know how to boil water. I was that ignorant. After months on the road and living alone for a long time I became an avid chef aficionado. Whatever you can imagine, I can cook it or at-least learn to cook it. Maybe not that much… But I certainly learned to love the arts of cooking and have learnt to produce the best dishes travelers around will find. It’s become so essential to me that sometimes I don’t even mind travelling with a Spices Kit, eh.

And learning to cook goes beyond the pleasure of a good meal. It’s an opportunity to relax, socialize and share a moment with your new friends. Its good vibe and I wish everyone embarking on a trip to do it for yourself and your loved ones.

To Love:

"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn your whole life around, so go ahead and find that person who will love you because of your differences and in that search you have found something truly beautiful for yourself"

From the time I boarded the flight, the resonance of love has been moving me ever since. A full week of sharing love, doing things I have never done before and most of all earning the love out of people who have never been a part of my life before.

Just like in the heart of an atom lies an enormous power, which if allowed to explode can destroy everything around it, similarly, there exist moments in our lives, which if allowed to come to surface and open up, have the incredible power to demolish all the emotional blockages, that we take years to build, in order to keep our sorrows, hurts and suffering of our pasts locked up inside us. We lock them up so that we can survive and go on with our “normal” lives.
The lives that other people see us living. But only we know, that how other people perceive our lives to be, is not how our lives are. There is always an undercurrent of life that we live, along with a life that we live on the surface.

People say that you can only love once in your life. They say that you can never forget your first love or your last love. I say that there is no first or second or last love. There is only love and we love the people we are supposed to love when it’s their time to show up in our lives. You won’t be able to stop that feeling of love for someone when it is time for you to love him or her. Reasons don’t matter in the affairs of the hearts. Hearts come with a reasoning of their own.

And every love that you experience is different and yet the same. Each love leaves you with something immortal, eternal and changes you in an unchangeable way. And listen to me when I say this; “If you have loved someone, and that has not changed your life for good, you have never really loved”. To find out that your long gone away from that city, and to still pondering on how every little piece of the house, still holds strong a piece of you and keeps reminding the one you love, that someway or the other you still belong where they most want you to be…..
That is the unchallengeable power of love.

To Travel:

“Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things – air, sleep, dreams, the sea, the sky – all things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.”

I scribbled these lines watching out the early morning sky from the window of a Boeing Business Jet soaring on top of Warsaw, Poland.

Deep in my mind, I can still listen to all the travelers who are chatting around me; their usual conversations about where they came from and where they’re going next. Miles down below, the Earth is still rolling and the world is moving as it should be in paces of its own.

In many ways this is an idyllic scene, but to be honest, hours before leaving Scandinavia I was feeling a bit heavy and jaded about travelling back to the world of chaos where I sit and work. But sometimes when you’re on the road too long the spark of newness fades, and travel can feel like a long, pointless slog, a detour from loved ones and from life.

Then I started writing below what I learnt from my travels. Some made me laugh. Some made me wince.

But all of them rang true, and reminded me of why I travel: to learn and grow, to challenge myself, stretch my limits and foster an appreciation of both the world at large and the chair waiting in front of the woodstove back home.

•          I’ve learned how to thank in languages
•          I don’t mind getting dirty.
•         I have met several travelers who have inspired me to go further and see more.
•          I appreciate what it means to have a home.
•          I recycle more.
•          I drink tap water knowing many people around the world can’t.
•          I know how to do laundry by hand.
•          I’ve proven I can hike high altitudes.
•          I notice the colors of the world.
•          I appreciate the need to take a day off.
•          I’ve been able to do what I love (write) …
•          I look for challenges.
•          I listen to more foreign music than any of my sedentary friends.
•          I’m more aware of hidden fees.
•          It makes me realize how small the world really was and depresses me to think of those who will probably never leave it to go and see the rest.
•          I seek out world news and think about what it means in my life and in the big picture.
•          When I was younger, I used to think, “I wish I had her/his life.” Now people say to me, “I wish I had your life.”
•          I scour maps over breakfast.
•          I think about how my actions affect the planet.
•      It’s not uncommon for me to have interactions with people on three or four continents in a single day.
•          I appreciate a long hot shower …
•          … and home-cooked meals …
•          … and a comfortable bed more than I ever did before I started traveling.
•          I now have some understanding of history, which completely confused me as a kid.
•       I’ve made some of my closest friends through traveling and writing in the travel industry.
•          I think about ethics.
•          I watch more foreign movies.
•          I have a bucket list that includes countries beyond Europe.
•          I’ve learnt to fall in love with the World Map.
•          I’ve finally understood that “To Travel is to Live”!!!

I could see lights from a distant view and the flight was making a steep decent when the pilot voiced up saying “Dear Passengers, in a few minutes we’d be landing in Dubai International Terminal, the local time is 12:24pm and the weather is a lovely 24`celcius… We hope you had a pleasant flight and we look forward to seeing you soon in one of our flights” I looked down and I could see the lovely lights streaming out of Dubai.

 This Globetrekker’s journey never ends; the next stop who knows, may be “The Amazons or may be New Zealand”!

Recalling the lovely lines from Eat, Love n Pray - In the end, I've come to believe in something I call "The Physics of the Quest." A force in nature governed by laws as real as the laws of gravity. And the rule goes something like this: If you're brave enough to leave behind everything familiar and comforting, which can be anything from your house to bitter, old resentments, and set out on a truth-seeking journey, either externally or internally, and if you are truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue and if you accept everyone you meet along the way as a teacher and if you are prepared, most of all, to face and forgive some very difficult realities about yourself, then the truth will not be withheld from you. You will eventually get what you want and will be where you belong…. Eat – Love - Travel

God Bless all of you..... 

Up in the Air :) - Leaving Scandinavia 

The Silence of Starvation

I looked around me, there was food, so much food, and there was happiness, smiles, laughter and much more. But still, while the whole world feasts on their abundance, miles away Somalia bleeds and it’s bleeding till its blood burns dry. I just clutched my eyes tight with tears with helplessness.

I was back in Dubai, just in time for the holy month of Ramadan. It is always pleasant time to be in such a vibrant city. The whole city and all its businesses were gearing up for the holy month.

During Ramadan, the most amazing process is how the local people celebrate their Iftar’s which is the feast they open across to all their families and friend when they are about to break their fast. These Iftar’s are lavish feasts set for many people mostly from 20 to even 2000. The biggest attractions of the feast are the number of dishes which are carefully crafted and prepared for the feast.

While I was busy in the office setting up the brand communication catalogues, I got a phone call from one of my bosses who head’s the communications for the local region. I picked up and said hello… “Hey Vasanth, how are you Mr. Communications?” I smiled and replied for his concern and asked him what the news is about. He replied saying he is hosting a Iftar party for 20 of his very close friends and wanted to invite me for the feast. I happily agreed to the invite and said I will be happy to join him at the feast.

That evening, I reached the flourishing areas of Jumairah where there was a big villa lit up with all the cute LED lamps for the hold month. It looked amazing from far. I reached into the villa, and saw people walking all across the house, some workers carrying big baskets of roti, and some other wear carrying 3 baskets of meat and other things needed to serve the big feast. It was a lot of movement all the way. I slowly moved across the lawn to the big tent which was put up for the feast celebration.

I entered the tent and there was a big hello from the guests and I embraced them with a big hello and sat on one of the sides of the tent and looked around at the lavish arrangements which have been made for the feast.

There was a lovely welcome from the host of the feast and then we all began to eat on all the lovely dishes which were prepared for us. It took a lot of time to start understanding the dishes, because there were 90 dishes made ranging from 10 different types of roti, briyani, full Arabic dishes, to sweets and cakes and loads of different variety of desserts. I didn’t know where to start or where to end. But somehow I managed to begin and in a matter of 20 minutes I was full and couldn't move on any more with the rest of the dishes.

With a heavy bulge, I got up from my seat, and went ahead to wash my hands and call it quits to the eating caprice. While I was trying to walk a little in the green lawns of the villa, from a far distance, I saw the amount of food piled inside the tent. It looked like a mountain of food from here. I saw around the corner of the tent, where people threw their empty place. When I looked closely, none of the plates were actually empty. All the plates had enough food to feed two more people heart full.

I then walked across closer to see the place closely and in that 5 minutes I stood there, I saw plates arriving one by one, with full of food, pieces of mutton and chicken untouched and rice filled plates full. While food just got piled in front of me, my heart sank looking at what was happening in front of me. I remembered my dad say “Every seed of rice, is somebody’s labor and blood, never waste even a seed” I saw what lied in front of me, and couldn’t take it anymore. I walked fast into the tent, and called on the host and asked him if he can do anything about the wastage which I was seeing all this long. He replied “Oh come on Vasanth, this happens all the time, we are all rich, nobody’s poor here, everybody’s rich and who’s going to take all this food, it’s an insult if I ask them to take this food”

I looked at him in repugnance with what I heard back from him. I couldn’t understand how people took food so easily. That’s right, when they have never been hungry, how will they know the pain and agony of the hungry? How much does this city waste on generous servings and abundant choices on feasts, even before the official 'Eid' Feast to celebrate the end of the fasting month? And how much food is really wasted at this time of theoretical returning to basics or religious asceticism and less, not more; and this while far away from here the Somalis are forsaken and denied the opportunity to break a relentless fast that they did not opt to keep this Ramadan.This is the worst draught the Somalis have suffered in 60 years, significantly at a time when the world is accused of wasting more food and resources than ever before. It wrenches my heart to see what all people there are going through at this time.

Back in Somalia tens of thousands have died in the last three months. In cities like Dubai, many people go most of their lives without knowing hunger.They don't know the hard labor which goes through in making this food available for them. Life and food are so easy for them. Little do they know that 'One person in the world dies every three seconds because of hunger’?

Campaigns in the Gulf regions such as Wipe Out Waste (WoW) look at how people can manage the buying and consumption of food in a more effective manner during Ramadan to ensure a clean plate and a clean conscience. This month (and for the last two months retrospectively) we are compelled to think about the suffering from hunger in Somalia especially while it undergoes its most devastating draught.

Every year more than 1.6 billion people around the world partake in the inspirational holy month of Ramadan, fasting from dawn to dusk, abstaining from food, drink and sexual contact. Only those deemed sick, elderly or travelling, or women who are pregnant, menstruating or nursing are exempted and can break the fast and either make up an equivalent number of days fasting later in the year, or if physically unable, they must feed a hungry person for every day missed. Muslims are aware that the month emphasizes not wasting food which is 'haram' (a wicked, shameful act) , and looking after, as well as feeling for the poor and hungry, is the virtue extolled by Islam now and indeed all year round. As stated in the holy Qur’an: “Eat and drink but waste not by excess, for God loves not the wasters”.

My hearty request to all the people on saving food:

• Don't buy more than what you need.
• Make sure your fridges are set at the right temperature - to stall food from rotting faster.
• Eat leftover food; some dishes taste better the day after!
• Buy food in smaller quantities and eat food before it expires.

Our Ramadan Thoughts are with the hungry, but what about its action?

Right now, the world is busy on spending for wars and feasts but struggles very hard to help the Somalis, including children, who are dying of a natural cause? Even the oil-rich Arab nations have not stepped forward in any coordinated decisive fashion to date. This delayed or slow-coming aid and relief effort is deplorable, and quite tragic, given that so many in the world are throwing away food and resources.

Arabs and Muslims around the world are not forgetting Somalia- as the juxtaposition is not 'wasted' on them that during the season of giving thanks for food and good health, and feeling the pain of others, Somalia is experiencing distress and devastation cause by a draught. They are malnutritioned to the point of starvation: their hunger goes beyond the daylight hours of the Ramadan fast, ironically something they would otherwise be partaking in as a Muslim nation.

People generally buy 30 per cent to 40 per cent more household products than they need at this time. Hotels and restaurants over-produce and supply more than the requirement. In Bahrain, ordinarily, food waste reached more than 300 tonnes per day, but this figure rocketed during Ramadan. Approximately 500 tonnes of food gets thrown away during the month of Ramadan in Abu Dhabi. The alarming issue, which also has serious environmental implications, has prompted the government to launch a drive to curb food wastage. According to official statistics, one third of the waste generated in the UAE is comprised of discarded food.

While Ramadan is Kareem (generous), the religion insists on no waste: Islamic preachers have called on Muslims to consider reducing personal food waste this Ramadan as part of their religious responsibility, as outlined in the Holy Qur'an.

I bid him a disturbed farewell and walked out with a heavy mind. I looked at the workers throwing baskets full of briyani into the garbage bins, gave a deep sigh and in a distance, I saw two little kids sharing a piece of roti with each other. “What comes easy in our hearts as kids, that essence of sharing, why does it diminish all that too soon Oh Lord?”

I looked at the huge lavish tents and looked around me, there was food, so much food, and there was happiness, smiles, laughter and much more. But still, while the whole world feasts on their abundance, miles away Somalia bleeds and is bleeding till its blood burns dry. I just clutched my eyes tight with tears with helplessness.

* I credited 10% of my salary to the Help Africa Foundation. I request you all to be a part of this movement. If not for the donation, at least help spread the awareness of wasting food to every other friend you might know.

Stains from the Stolen Virgins

“What would you do”? If you see your daughter as one amongst those women, how would you look into her eyes, how would you feel and what does your heart say? How would you fight when you know that; the one standing there is your very own blood?” Would you.....?

Why do you call it fear? Fear is an emotion experienced in anticipation of some specific pain or danger (usually accompanied by a desire to flee or fight)… Fear comes when you’ve seen something strange or unusual and you try to hide yourself from its outcome.

When I walk around the most developed cities of India, what do I see in the eyes of women ?, I see fear; fear not from some unusual kind, but fear from Nature, their very own kind which was created by God to protect them in this very land she was born to live. I see in their eyes, the fear of MEN!

Isn’t it a shame for a species to fear its own kind? What I see here in India pains me beyond imagination and there are no words when I read and look into the topics I read on the newspaper every single day. I spit in rage when I read news of little children being dragged away from homes, raped voraciously and left to rot and die beside garbage bins by the side of the road. Is this what men truly have become? Have they turned into this unconscious flesh feeding animals that lack to see and accept woman as their own kind?

If this is what men are to become, where is India heading to?

How much more can a woman run in her life? While she was born she ran away from boys who tried to pull her skirt down, when she grew up she had to be immune to all the sultry remarks made by her community boys, while she travelled, she had to exempt all those filthy rubbing and touching from all the men who wanted to taste a piece of her flesh and their eyes who could devour her off her entire dignity and humanity. When she matured, she still is fighting every single day of her life from taxi drivers, police men, lawyers, politicians and much more. How much more can she run, who can she go to?

I recently saw this award winning documentary from CNN about the ‘Nepals Stolen Children’ and got heart wrenched when I heard the true stories of every woman who shared her story. Deep inside as a man my sincere values for good men are falling apart slowly like the melting glaciers, drop by drop I loose hope when I see stories of woman raped, tortured and abused. Men have always wanted to keep the woman below his power and make the best use of her. I am not saying don’t keep her under your power, am just saying ‘Give her the due importance’ and love her and let her know you’d stand by her at all times. Give her that necessary support and guide her for the good and believe me she won’t even ask you a piece of your power you so enjoyed all these years without fear.

Men with their social borders are open to many windows of crimes and sometimes they loose those values and get themselves into the wrong minds. Organized crime is largely responsible for spreading human trafficking. Although sex trafficking—along with its correlative elements such as kidnapping, rape, physical abuse, and prostitution—is illegal in nearly every country in the world widespread greed and corruption make it possible for sex trafficking to proliferate. While national and international institutions attempt to regulate and enforce anti-trafficking legislation, local police forces and governments may in fact be participating in the very sex trafficking rings they are charged in preventing on the first place.

One overriding factor in the proliferation of sex trafficking is the fundamental belief that the women and girls are expendable. In societies where women and girls are undervalued or not valued at all in comparison to males, women are at greater risk for being abused, trafficked, and coerced into sex slavery. If women experience improved economic and social status a large part of trafficking would be eradicated.

Catch a little wild sparrow and place it into a tiny cage; lock it and look at it closely. You’d see how its brain goes demented and insane. It’s that feeling of lost freedom, a feeling which only a free human will truly sympathize. The women who are robbed of their freedom often the unfortunate victims go through several stages of degradation, physical, and psychological torture. They are often deprived of sleep and food, not allowed to move about freely, and endure physical torture. In order to keep these poor women captive, they are told their families and children will be harmed or murdered if the women try to escape the brothel or if they tell anyone about their captivity. Because victims rarely understand the culture and language of the city or the place into which they have been trafficked, they experience an additional layer of psychological stress, isolation, and frustration.

Often these trafficked women before they are integrated fully into the flesh trade they are forcibly raped by the traffickers in order to initiate the cycle of abuse and degradation. Some women are drugged in order to prevent escape. Once “broken in,” sex traffic victims often service up to 30 men a day and are vulnerable to sexually transmitted diseases, HIV infection, and pregnancy.

It saddens me when I see that 80% of the flesh

trade is induced by men who the victims knew very well… Friends, Relatives, Husbands and even Fathers! I recently read a story on how a 14 year old girl from the Indian state of Kerala who was sexually abused and molested by a 100 men from top politicians to film stars and well known socialites and in another story of a little girl in Uttar Pradesh raped and later stabbed in the eye so that she cannot assist in nabbing the culprits. Doesn't it bring a shame to the men involved in this, doesn't their skin evoke with remorse when they look back at what they have done? How does a man live in this world when he has known that he has crushed a life and the smiles of a little child whose innocence has now been guttled.

How do they call themselves as Men?

I always admired about the stories and tales of Real Men, men who stood with time to effectuate values for which the whole of womanhood always awaited. I admire those real men, Men who not only have values but try to bring in the best of notions for the woman who believes in him. Real men are concentric: you have to take fold after fold off of him before you get to the centre of his personality. You must get below his animal nature, habits, customs, affections, daily life, and sometimes go away down into the heart of the man, before you know what is really in him. But when you get into the last core of these concentric rings of personality you find a sense of the infinite--a consciousness of immortality linked to something higher and better. I believe some have just lost those rings of character and are now roaming as monsters without a leash.

No matter what have heard and what have seen, I still believe in Real Men. Out there on this Earth there are still men who hold the hands of their mothers, wives and daughters and cross these cruel front lines of terror keeping their women safe off from all dangers and trying their best to educate their families on the true values of what real men are and how to become one. I know that there still lies a strangling string of hope amidst these young boys who will one day join the society of good men and that this country’s woman can proudly stand beside them holding hands and will once again walk this proud nation with pride and freedom. And just like Subroto Bagchi says “Most men take more out of life than they give to it. A few give more to life than they take out of it. The world runs because of such men.” - One day; I too; will be part of such men…!

Remember women! No boy is destined to be a “john,” a pimp, or a human trafficker. Raising young men in circles of accountability to be respectful and protective of all women and children is one of the most important things women within the families can do to stop human trafficking. Talk to them about human trafficking as a modern form of slavery to help convince men and boys to become allies in the fight to end this form of oppression and we shall soon have a society free of abuse, prostitution and human trafficking. I am sure deep inside the layers of every man lives a spirit which somewhere admires and still holds green love for a woman for who he would change himself. In the documentary I saw how a brother traveled thousands of kilometers from Nepal to India to save his sister who was forced to work in a brothel, and it brought tears to him and me, when they showed him his sister wearing just a skirt and a bra and he ran towards her, hugged her wept in pain, nothing is as harrowing for a brother or a father, than to see his own daughter in such a state. Like I said, I still believe in true men. I once saved a prostitute from Bangalore, it still remains as one of the most profound action I've done in my life, and everyday it just makes my life so worth it.

In the documentary which aired in CNN on the Stolen Children of Nepal, through the visuals I travelled along with Demi Moore to Nepal to meet 2010 CNN Hero of the Year Anuradha Koirala and some of the thousands of women and girls Koirala’s organization has rescued from forced prostitution. How were they taken and where were they sent? It was a wonderful composition of Hope beyond borders and I render my humblest support and my resound salute to Ms.Koirala who is none but an angel to those entire trafficked woman and girls who are now living in the shadow and support of Maiti Nepal.

In the interview with CNN she said a few words which nailed my heart with resonance and she said “Look at those brothels, look inside those 10X10 rooms where those little girls who are 13 to 16years old, look into their eyes, look at their pain, and touch their bodies. Feel those blood stained bodies who are alive outside but dead by pain. Look into their eyes and see the pain they go through as every man passes and savages on her innocent childhood. These are girls of the unseen world. This so called brothels and prostitution houses which we consider as a third world action is not a world apart... and this article I write today speaks on its behalf. Please hear the voices from the children and the woman of that world. Let us learn from that voice... and let us ignore it no more. Ladies and gentlemen, Say No! No-More to abuse, trafficking and prostitution!

For all those few men; who still believe in pleasure that comes from blood soaked curtains recall these lines “What would you do”? If you see your daughter as one amongst those women, how would you look into her eyes, how would you feel and what does your heart say? How would you fight when you know that; the one standing there is your very own blood?” Would you.....?

Real Men don’t buy Girls!