Archive for the ‘Heart’ Category

No Weekends

Posted: March 16, 2012 in Cycling, Family, Heart
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Just realised that after my latest commitments, I’ve got almost no free weekends available till, possibly, mid-May! Here’s how it’s looking:

Tomorrow (17 Mar) : Meet some friends for Brunch/Lunch + Watch Milan-San Remo
Sunday (18 Mar): Ride the Burgess Hill sportive (86 km / 53 miles version)

Sunday (25 Mar): Ride the Evans Cycles’ Woking sportive (144 km / 90 miles version)

Saturday (31 Mar): Ride the Tour of Flanders sportive (134 km / 83 miles version)
Sunday (1 Apr): Watch the Tour of Flanders in Flanders

Saturday (7 Apr): Get married to this girl
Sunday (8 Apr): Watch Paris-Roubaix

Saturday (14  Apr): Dinner party with her family and friends in Chennai

Saturday (21 Apr): Dinner party with my family somewhere in north India

Weekend (28-29 Apr): Start journey back to London

Weekend (5-6 May): Ride / Drive to Oxford / Brighton with friends

Weekend (12-13 May): Finally, hopefully free :)

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Posted: February 12, 2012 in Family, Heart, People
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This time, last year, I was on a plane half way to India to say good bye to grand dad. Hope the old bugger is doing well up there. Miss him loads :'(

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Strange Dream

Posted: December 5, 2011 in Dreams, Heart, People, Places
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Robert Scoble appeared in my dream last night. And it wasn’t even in London.

I had moved back to my home town and he visited me there to interview about my new start-up!

Sadly, since the start-up was (is) in stealth mode, I couldn’t share any specifics with him. He wasn’t happy that he came so far only to get stonewalled but didn’t let that spoil the mood.

Later, I took him on a walk (or was it a photo-walk) around town and things got weirder. The town now had small hills and dense vegetation (IRL it is a dust bowl right in middle of north India’s wide open, super flat plains). We were walking on a trail through the undergrowth with the dark, hilly forest on one side and high back walls of some houses on the other, joking about the fauna of that region. Then we saw the gate to the park, which was now a national reserve. That’s when it went dark.

I can relate bits of it to real life. Been missing my home town, reading too much of Scobleizer, working towards a startup, and was walking through some dense growth yesterday on the Beverly brook walk, including a section that was suspiciously similar to section we walked in the dream.

Would’ve really liked to know how my start-up turned out :)

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P.S.: As a contrast, the dream night before was of two girls in love with me (and me loving them back) who turned out to be twins. They were both what I’d grown up dreaming ‘my girl’ to be – tall, dark, intelligent, athletic, confident-yet-not-abrasive, smile-a-lot kinds. Don’t know how that one ended either :(

Holstee Manifesto – The Text

Posted: November 30, 2011 in Heart, Photos
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Holstee Manifesto

All the best things: cycling, friends, life. (HT: @ishanidd)

Based on the broad ‘genre’, I should be hating this song. Yet, I love it. Somehow, every time I watch it, it brings out a flood of memories and emotions, all related to home, the old country, the growing up years, the people I left behind, the stupid, simple, poor and beautiful life.

The stupid song makes me think. And the thought invariably is about the trade I’ve made – prosperity of goods & services for wealth of close, loving people.

Love the song for the memories it brings. Hate the song for flood of emotions and uncomfortable questions those memories bring.

(more…)

Saturday.

The Match. Suppressed delight at bowlers doing a grand job of suffocating Lankan openers. Mild disappointment on letting them consolidate in middle overs. Left home for friends’ place in Canary Wharf with the score reading 191/5 in 42nd over. Arrived at friends’ place almost an hour later to learn of the hammering our bowlers got in last few overs and the loss of Sehwag’s wicket. 4 hours of emotional lows and highs interrupted by a super lunch from East is East. A controlled six followed by wild shouts from everyone in the room and calls home to share the occasion with family. Also random tweeting and checking scores at Upton Park & The Brit, all on a dying phone battery.

Later a visit to Piccadilly Circus to see some more Indians celebrating on the roads including generic shouts of “Sachiiiin Sachin”. Followed by a round of bumper cars, a few rounds of air hockey and a round of bowling, tempered with beer and snacks. Lastly, a quick two rounds on the bike of the road around the compound late, late at night to keep my commitment to #30daysofbiking going.

Sunday.

Lazy, late wake up. More laziness catching up with yesterday’s time line (phone had conked off sometime while bowling) and celebratory reports. Finally, tube to Oxford Circus for late lunch at Ed’s where they delighted my by remaking my coffee shake after I generally commented that I liked it stronger than it was. Good music, good food, great service. Later a walk to Leicester square through London’s most expensive shopping district to watch Source Code – script has weak points but good overall. Followed by a walk back to the Woodlands Restaurant at Marylebone for dinner – the Piccadilly one is better. Ended the day with another 5 rounds around the housing block on my bike to complete today’s commitment to #30daysofbiking. Hope the rest of 27 days get more riding than these two did :|

The priceless bit.

On the call home after we won the match, dad told me that he was finally opening the bottle of single malt I’d given him over an year back. Ma was protesting the need to open it but Grandma insisted that she too wanted ‘a small one’ to celebrate the victory :)
It was great to hear genuine joy in her voice for the first time since Grandpa passed away – the one thing I most vividly remember from that big day.

A last hurrah.

Suno gaur se duniya walon… burri nazar na hum pe daalo… Chaahe jitna zor laga lo… Sabse aage honge Hindustani.
Translation for non desi readers: WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS!

Team_India_World_cup_2011_Champions_photo

Last, never the least: Thank you Gary!

Gary Kirsten