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Written by Ashu Kalra
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Saturday, 26 April 2008 10:36 |
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 So, I have been campaigning in earnest now for over two months. It is an unbelievable experience, but it leaves very little time to reflect. When you do reflect, it seems to be on the strangest little things where you can hang a sliver of optimism. For example, my good fortune with fortunes; Last month, I was having lunch at a downtown Chinese restaurant with a few local law enforcement leaders. After we each enjoyed our lunch specials, the little white plate was passed around, our destinies selected at random. So, everyone takes a look at the little slips of paper. It was the usual smattering of generalizations mixed in with phrases taken straight out of a power of positive thinking seminar. Then, I break apart my cookie and start laughing as I read it to the guys. “Remember three months from this date. Good things are in store for you.” I will take that over an exit poll anytime. Then, two days ago, I stopped into a Chinese place near my house with my campaign manager for some hot and sour soup. And what does the fortune say that time? “Your present plans are going to succeed.” Plus, 2008 is the year of the rat. And, when was I born? Like I said, hanging on to any sliver that slithers by is how I keep my spirits high as I work through this campaign.
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Last Updated ( Monday, 28 April 2008 21:55 )
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Written by Heartcrossings
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Tuesday, 04 March 2008 13:14 |
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"Two old friends talking about marriage" The house was dark except for the living room. Sheila could see a flickering television screen through the window. Vibha answered the door right away. "Come in" she said as if they had met last only a week ago. It was a tastefully furnished home without any ostentation. The smell of spices wafted in from the kitchen. Setting the cake on the dining table, Sheila followed Vibha into the kitchen "Smells lovely. What are you cooking?" she asked. "Nothing much. It's chicken dhansak and rice"
She was on her third glass of wine while Vibha sipped her OJ. "So why did this guy keep calling you if you wouldn't answer the phone?" Vibha asked puzzled. Sheila was recounting her recent experience involving a man in his late fifties who had once interviewed her on the phone. She had not accepted the job, but the man kept calling her from a private number and never left a message. The first couple of times she had answered but then she stopped. He called as early as 6:00 a.m. and as late ten in the night. Every once in a while he would email her to say Hi and want to set up time to chat. In exasperation, Sheila asked him to call her one evening just to see what he wanted.
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Last Updated ( Tuesday, 04 March 2008 14:05 )
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Written by Brian Frydenborg
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Sunday, 10 February 2008 00:00 |
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Bhutto widower conducting a massive rally
My last piece was written a little more than a week before the sad yet predictable assassination of Benazir Bhutto two days after Christmas.Nationwide elections that were supposed to be the start of a more “democratic” government in Pakistan, then scheduled for January 8th, were (wisely) postponed by Musharraf in the massive protests, rioting, violence and chaos that followed and are now scheduled for February 18th.In my last piece, I stated that Musharraf was truly in a no-win situation; this is even more so today, as he is (unfairly) blamed for Bhutto’s assassination, is even outright accused of it, and faces all of the same problems as before but at a more intense level, with even less support at home and abroad than ever before.And recent developments in Afghanistan, India, and the United States all seem to be trending towards not really helping to bring stability to Afghanistan, and, in turn, Pakistan is in a position to cause serious headaches for all of these countries, if not migraines.
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Last Updated ( Wednesday, 05 March 2008 08:02 )
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Written by Ashu Kalra
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Sunday, 03 February 2008 15:31 |
For the past few months, I have felt like I have been creeping ever so slowly towards the edge of a cliff. As I get closer and closer to it, I try to peer over the edge to help predict what I have in store. Sort of like dipping my toe into the ocean, I want to allow myself the option of jumping back onto dry land. However, before I had a chance to back away, I find myself rushing downwards towards the unknown. Recently, I filed an intention to run for City Council at the clerk’s office in San Jose. I thought that would mark the beginning of a journey. In reality, the journey began a long time ago. I’ve been falling ever since.
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Written by Raj Grover aka Ross Grover
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Friday, 01 February 2008 00:00 |
Four hours later, I was pacing back and forth in my hotel room. My feelings had blended seamlessly through a cycle of eagerness, impatience, irritation, confusion, bemusement, and finally resignation. Had I become a schizophrenic, uttering nonsense while the polite people around me eagerly nodded their heads somewhere in between “yes” and “no?” Was I experiencing a Twilight Zone style alternate dimension where time moves more slowly? I knew that morning had faded into afternoon as the muffled cacophony of crushing traffic below reached its crescendo. No, this was merely my first experience with “Indian Standard Time.” The irony couldn’t be stronger. Being of Germanic heritage, I suffer from a unique cultural fetish – Punctuality. We love our precise machinery, especially clocks. That word, “clock,” really doesn’t do justice to our obsession with precision. I admired my Wenger “chronograph” with its brushed steel band, onyx face, and auto-wind action. Muttering to myself that if only these people understood the beauty of Punctuality, I nearly missed the muted chimes of my house phone. |
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Written by Sonal Vashi
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Monday, 03 March 2008 00:00 |
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 Nothing plasters a smile on my face quite like ice cream, especially when it’s homemade! While ice cream is readily available in grocery stores, homemade ice cream is in a league of its own. When you make your own, you combine fresh, rich, ingredients with additions of your choice. This recipe will result in the richest, creamiest, silkiest ice cream that will give new meaning to the phrase "melt in your mouth." My recipe starts off with a Crème Anglaise base, which is heavenly in itself. It is then slow-churned until transformed into ice cream. Try this base recipe first, but then feel free to experiment and create your very own unique concoction. This dessert is perfect for one and even better for a crowd!
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Written by Heartcrossings
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Monday, 04 February 2008 18:53 |
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Quite recently I was talking to someone who is back in Bangalore after spending a couple of decades in the US. He is happy with the quality of life especially because domestic help is so affordable. It is a luxury he had forgotten all about. "Given your line of work, India is the place to be in right now. You should consider returning" he tells me.
I tell him my decision to leave had nothing to do with quality of life or the lack of it. It was all about freedom and independence. While my situation is far from perfect, I don't lack for freedom and that makes up for everything else that is missing. I no longer have to fictionalize or impersonate to survive like I once had to. J was going to turn a year in a month, while I was apartment hunting in Bangalore and getting into the rhythm of being back in the workforce after a longish hiatus. The hunt came to a happy conclusion with me finding one that was spacious, airy and sunlit. Being sparsely furnished, J had the run of two thousand square feet of space. I thought that was perfect as she was learning to walk and could not practice her new skill enough. |
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Written by Raj Bagga
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Sunday, 03 February 2008 20:47 |
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 I am an avowed atheist, it is my mantra and belief system. It is my religion. Recently, however, I had a religious experience. You may wonder how or even if this possible. A few weeks ago, I would have said it was impossible but now – after a recent trip – I know that it is. Rather than trying to convince you of anything, I simply describe my experience and let you judge for yourself.
After a tiring weekend, a late dinner and a fast drive to SFO, at half past dark, I boarded a plane bound for Singapore – my first trip to the Far East. Feelings of anticipation, about the exotic locale, dread, about the upcoming work, exhilaration, about the unknown and from the caffeine, and exhaustion, from having worked the previous 15 days, and from the caffeine, were swirling in my mind and body as I walked into courteous but generic business hotel. In spite of the bright morning sun, my body knew it was almost midnight on the other side of the world, and I had only slept a few hours on the plane. Even then, I had to send a few emails. Before I realized it, an hour had passed and, recognizing the need, I jumped into the shower. |
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