India - karma or obsession

This post is dedicated first of all to my friends from Twitter who stubbornly use to ask me what is my connection with their country. On the other hand I think time has come to actually answer myself if this is a karmic thing, or simply an obsession built up in time due to various elements.
Well, I guess everything started in childhood. I had the privilege to be literally brought up in the cinema hall, as my parents worked their entire life in a cinema. As I have confessed to many so far, my oldest memory is from a movie - a cut head rolling down a hill and the beheaded body covered by a purple cape. Well, in former Eastern European countries, movies coming from India represented a steady and most beloved presence (and who claims otherwise is a pathetic liar). So, my first contact with the Hindustani land occurred in the magic shelter of the cinema hall. Movies like Aradhana (Vandana in Romanian), Haathi mere Saathi (My friends, the Elephants), Awaara (The Vagabond), Shree 420 (Article 420), Ek Phool Do Mali (A flower and two gardeners), Yaadon Ki Baaraat (The chain of memories), Raj Kapoor, Mr. Amitabh, Kabir Bedi (in Sandokan Series) simply helped the Romanians to evade from their gloomy world and dream of a land that seemed to be like a fairy tale.
In time, when books became another source of getting knowledge for me, I discovered Eliade and his wonderful love story - Maitreyi or La Nuit Bengali.The book describes the relationship between the author and the young Indian Maitreyi Devi (a protegée of Tagore), who became a famous writer herself. For many years, Maitreyi Devi was not aware that the story had been published. After reading it, she wrote her own version of the relationship in 1974 - Na Hanyate (It Does Not Die - in English).In fulfillment of a promise Eliade made to Maitreyi that his novel would not be published in English during their lifetimes an English translation, of Mayitreyi, Bengal Nights did not appear until 1993.
Well these two books had a great impact on me on a superior level and made me discover more about India and in the process I went through all the already known clichéd stages (yoga, gurus, high spirituality, Mother Teresa, Gandhiji etc. - must admit crazy times were these and kind of weird). But my quest was not on the right track and for many years India simply lingered somewhere in a corner of my mind until some time around 2000, when all of a sudden India started to be in the news.
At that time my personal profile registered a huge change - from the book addicted philologist and an "elite intellectual" I had turned into a new to be economist and my mind had become more opened to the mechanisms that hide behind different societies. Little by little, my image about India absorbed different aspects, like history, social rules, governmental rules, development trends, you name it.
Caught in the hectic world of professional career, gasping desperately for time, once again I grabbed what was at hand to ease up my information hunger. Bollywood (oh, boy, and I have seen quite a huge number of glossy and unrealistic Bolly flicks) and Internet (youtube made history from this point of view). Year after year I watched in awe and with increased interest the changes India went through.
Well, last year something bizarre happened (unfortunately it cannot be shared) and all of a sudden things (big or small) related to India were coming my way on a regular basis (like receiving a sari from someone who most probably wanted to get rid of it and had no clue about my interest in India). Things that can be explained only if karmic or obsessive.
Once I wrote my first tweet the craziness exploded. The easiness I connect with people from India (though we come from complete different cultures, with complete different values) goes beyond the normal, kind social media rules. Twitter also had a great deal with my decision to relocate and leave my country, just because somehow I believe on a long shot my destiny and fulfillment is in India.
My closest friends from home are quite appalled by the idea and they hope it is just another whim of mine. I fear and hope it is not.

Locked in people’s hearts for good.

You blew the world as Raja, telling your wife you would not touch her until she accepted you.
With Raju, you came to Mumbai and showed us that love was stronger than the glamorous lifestyle.
Then with Ajay/Vicky schizophrenic personality you managed to woo the audience. The dead look in your eyes in the last shot revealed a land of wonders.
As Rahul Mehra, people became aware of the tormented love and could not help, but share the pain of not being loved back.
You came along with sparkling Sunil whose defeated posture in the rain and teary eyes announced the soon to be the knight of hearts.
As Raj Malhotra you made history and the world has never been the same since that year. You became a brand and a solid as rock print in our souls.
Ram Jaane reminded us of an angel with dirty face and the craziness of sacrifice.
Arjun Saagar marked the point where your charisma and sadness merged for the first time into an expression difficult to watch at times.
Other 2 Rahuls were yet to come in 2 love stories which almost annoyed the viewers with their unbearable sweetness and sorrow. Each and every tear you shed was thousand times multiplied and formed an ocean of admiration all over the world.
Then Amarkant puzzled everybody. One of those strange roles that leave you wrapped up in anguish.
With Baadshah, Ajay and Max, entertainment got a new side, but fans breathed easily when Raj Aryan came back with his eternal love for a dead woman.
Asoka confirmed an underlying statement – I am here to stay. For good. And I do not care whether you like it or not.
Rahul Raichand appealed to Western audience more than ever. Period. The gesture of blessing your bride, while rain was desperately pouring, could freeze anyone’s heart in a never-ending beat.
Soon after that, Devdas popped up in our lives. The depths of his eyes mirroring the hell of our own mistakes and loneliness were hard to bare. Grieving got a new meaning.
Without any mercy, you gave us Aman Mathur so we can be hunted and distressed even more.
Major Ram Prasad Sharma helped us cool down a bit, so we could cope some time later with that first split second of terror and misery in Veer Pratap’s eyes.
And what a feast Mohan Bhargava offered us. Decency, calmness, honesty, genuine talent, but also a new ironic statement: „Hey guys, you thought I couldn’t do it? Well, check that!”
Between Kishenlal, the boring „accountant” and the selfish Ghost, one cannot choose easily. So we were satisfied with the famous line: "I am the yearning that resides in a woman´s heart... that´s who I am."
Dev Saran shook again the Western hearts and troubled the Indian ones. Dev disturbed many people. Dev annoyed many people. Dev was hated by many people. Because Dev had the courage to show the truth. Dev had the courage to destroy so he could live. Dev had the guts to open up widely the „dark” side of our souls and desires. And Dev proved us how pathetic and coward we are and this was why I loved Dev so much. Unfortunately, Dev does not exist in the real world.
In a twist of fate, Vijay/Don „cleaned-up” the mess made by Dev and we watched in awe the wonderful new played double role. The mean, sarcastic, sharp, cunning and charming Don simply brought smiles on our face. Once again the audience was ready to understand and forgive the villain even if there was absolutely no reason for that.
2007 was a weird year. Kabir Khan and Om Prakash/Kapoor played with our feelings. On one hand here it is the astonishing coach - severe, correct, wounded, sad and tough – who stands uncorrupted in his heartbreaking solitude; while on the other hand, we have Om – the childish, gully, puerile, sissy, but so sexy hero. Split personality? Freaking talent? Blessed by Gods? I can only assume or guess and cannot give an answer.
Surinder Sahni/Raj does not any more introductions. The man has a heavenly gift and made justice for himself and for a feeling so much disregarded, but so much secretly desired by everyone: Love.
Sahir Khan let us catch glimpses of the real thing. He tries to tell us leave him alone. I am sorry but we are not able to do that. When your name is Khan, you are doomed to be forever locked in people’s hearts. It is a heavy burden, I know, but instead of swimming in rivers of tears, it is better to float on oceans of love.
Happy Birthday Shahrukh.

A Match Made in Heaven

Time has come to talk about a film which turned into an addiction for me. Its not my intention to make a proper review as I cannot be objective when heart is completely involved. Rabne Bana De Jodi gave me many headaches and I would not give details for safety reasons, but the fact that such a film cannot be found here says a lot about this. All in all, it was only the 4th view that included everything (quality, soundtrack - yes you read well, soundtrack! -, subtitles, etc.)

The movie, starring Shahrukh Khan as Surinder 'Suri' Sahni and Raj (Kapoor!), Anushka Sharma as Taaniji and Vinhay Pathak as Bobby Khosla and directed by Aditya Chopra, receieved bad critics, but also very warm ones. I guess the bad ones came from people who could not accept the fact that the heroine cannot literally recognize her husband after he suffers a complete change of style - from a normal, shy, clumsy, boring man to an over the top, joyful, lighthearted, flirty, crazy guy. Maybe this was not the most brilliant convention chosen so that the plot could elaborate from, but it is still a convention. Once you admit this, the beauty of the movie can really make an impact on your soul.

I will not talk in detail about the story, the characters, the cinematography, the soundtrack or the fact that the flick is a cornucopia of Hindi movies references but I will highlight some scenes and moments in the bullets style:

-the ordinary sneakers image when SRK gets down from the train followed immediately by the brilliant red of his wife's wedding sari is the moment when we realize tough times are coming for our hero.
-the big kitchen hosts one of the most delicate and humorous shots in the movie - the red rose placed back again in the vase.
-Punjab Power lighting up your life ji. Extrapolating a bit the Punjab Power is in fact the love energy that lightens Suri's otherwise grayish and ordinary life.
-Suri's first victory - the yellow food box and the amazing song of Haule-Haule (incredible lyrics).
-Accha, accha short jingle marking intelligently certain moments/intros.
-Meri love story bana de yaara scene where the entire craziness starts and where Shahrukh shows for the first time in the movie how many things he can express only with his eyes and thin smiles.
-Raj's flamboyant and hilarious motto invented on the spot (and of course in "full version"): Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna, Hum hai rahi pyaar ke, Phir milenge, Chalte Chalte (Never Say Good-bye, We are travelers on the Path of love, We'll probably meet again soon - these are approximate translations and mainly based on the official sources like Wikipedia and imdb) mixing shamelessly the titles of more or less iconic movies very well known to Hindi movie watchers.
-Raj's cool and "too silky smooth" T-shirts and goggles. :)
-Raj's idiotic but heart melting obsessive expressions - mafiji, sorryji, never again or Taani partner Hello dear Never fear Raj is here.
-"Romance to dance Hindi Film style" song item - one of the most entertaining and colorful tribute to the history of Hindi movies I have ever seen.
-Shahruk's schizoid monologue just before Intermission and the beautifully shot fall of a single teardrop.
-Dance pe chance item song - addicting and smiles inducing moments. Always remember me of teenage hood crazy times.
-Gol-gappas eating contest between Raj and Taani where I also found the cutest flaw of the movie. Shahrukh with wedding ring and without it within the same scene.
-The Dhoom style bikes confrontation immediately followed by Bobby's explanations regarding the macho attitude.
-Raj's confusion related to Rakhi bandra and no macho issue.
-Tujh Mein Rab Dikhta Hai item song. What more beautiful love declaration than tell someone "I see God in you"? It’s so impressive, as such love cannot be found in real life.
-Suri's ridiculous fight with the Sumo guy. Critics dismissed the scene as it lacked humor. Well the thing is it was not intended to be funny, on the contrary. Maybe its the most realistic scene from the entire movie. Many times we find ourselves doing stupid gestures so we could impress the one we love. The way Suri makes a fool of himself almost hurts you like a knife cut. Those who loved and were not loved back can better understand and relate to this otherwise useless scene.
-Suri and Taani dancing in the competition. The robotic moves as well as the expressionless faces unfolding one more time the story and the basic misunderstanding.

Thank you Suriji for letting us with the hope that someone might love us more than God. And I am sure if this thing ever happens, God won’t get upset.

The 3 Magi from East reloaded

In the Christian tradition it is said that baby Jesus was visited after his birth by 3 Magi (or 3 Kings from the East) to give him some special gifts. Gaspar - gold, Melchior - frankincense and Balthasar - myrrh. They often are overlooked (though much respected in the popular belief) and none of the Gospels or other writings left us more information about their roundabouts and who they really were.
Fascinated by them and having no intention of making a preposterous blasphemy I gave them personalities and to be on the safe side different names, too.
I shall start with the myrrh bringer (symbolizing the suffering, among other things) - Varkansi. He is the wisest of all, with a mind like a rare diamond, tough, as he hates being vulnerable, strong, untouchable, though generous to a certain point, always in search for perfection, never happy, with mind-blowing depths. He stabs you without any mercy, but you hear his heart crying. Varkansi - the bearer of pain and sorrow. He carries his heavy burden with indifference and he is doomed to be madly loved and hated in the same time.
The frankincense bringer on the other hand, Salopil, comes with the shinny power of prayer. He spreads love, light and flowers. He is pure, shy, and clumsy, with beautiful, honest eyes and he would not hurt anybody. He trembles for any human being grief. He offers himself without second thoughts, but he always remains lonely. When his soul crushes, he does not despair, as he always finds the will to go on, by asking God's help. The magic of his prayers makes people smile and this is how he makes the next step. He is doomed to move on until he meets his God.
Well, the last, but not the least, Setimakan, runs all over the place with his golden gift of virtue, kingship and certitude. He is warm, kind, balanced, laughs a lot at everything, he pokes on Varkansi's seriousness and Salopil's genuineness, but always with a tear in the corner of the eye. He is the rock on which everybody holds with gratitude. He does not mind at all, as he realizes this is the reason he lives for. His helping hand is always there and he just needs a sign to bring you down to Earth. He is doomed to be never forgotten.

Having said that I hope for each and one of you to meet the 3 Magi from East (in dreams if not otherwise), as we all need them, even if we do not know that.

"Happies endings"

All's well that ends well. Though Shakespeare's play title seems to be more appropriate for movies, sometimes life reminds us to stay tight and wait for the best to happen. Because "the happies endings" can take you by surprise and let you as exhausted and perplexed as in a bad outcome situation.
Instead of jumping around with exhilaration, you just watch in dumb awe. And the moment perishes and you cannot live it again, at least not with the same intensity. And then you wonder why the hell you lost hope and why you did not let Universe do its job at its own pace.
Lets receive things as they come, handle them with care and calm, accept the inevitable, pray to find strength and even in the worst case scenario, be also prepared for the positive results, as they can, too, blow your mind if unexpectedly hit you.
Don't miss the chance to taste the sweetness and the blessings of "happies endings".
PS. "Happies endings" also announce my next post which was so much time delayed. :)

Assumption is the mother of all fuck-ups

First let me give credit to my Twitter friend @farhanmasood for the title of this blog post. Your tweet came to the precise moment. :)
We always make assumptions.
Jews - they run the world from backstage because they have loads of golden coins. Muslims - they are the leading terrorists because they are cruel and fanatic. Christians - they are bigots, because they go to church, but stab you behind your back. Hindus - they are weird, poor and they live among mice, because this is what we saw on a damn youtube vid.
Lawyers - they are sharks, because they dare put you in jail, after charging you big time. Politicians - they are corrupted because they build palaces with the money from the taxes you pay. Rockers and bikers - they are to be banned, because they worship Devil. Advertisers - they suck because they play with your mind. Homosexuals - they have to be punished because they are against the nature.
Says who? (sic!)
All of the above are pure assumptions built up in time due to unfortunate occurrences, prejudices and lack of knowledge and information.
On a smaller personal level we proceed in the same way. This colleague is stupid, because she/he cannot send a fax. She is a whore because she slept with several guys. He is an opportunist, because he offered himself to work more. She is a bitch, because she did not admire my new dress. He is a goof, because he married with the bitch in the previous sentence. He is a part of a conspiracy because he does not give you the same amount of attention.
Stop judging. Gather information. Know all the details. Check different sources. Wait and have patience. Do not make assumptions as you can get yourself in the most fucked-up situation.
Repairing the consequences and healing the wounds might cost you more than you have imagined.

One of those days...

This has been one of those days when everything announced a normal Friday...catching up with friends, watching movies, reading, enjoying the simple browsing over the Internet, laughing at stupid things...
And then...it hits you...a short conversation on messenger with someone you dearly care about goes completely wrong, while you are totally unprepared. Out of the blue the misery is all over you. You feel helpless, as you are not given the chance to find out what your mistake was.
And you start imagining things that might not be true at all. You start blaming yourself for something you do not clearly understand. You let yourself overwhelmed by an artificial guilt which can turn you upside-down and which begins eating you inside like a hungry rodent.
All of a sudden your self-esteem is down and the world has nothing to offer you anymore. You simply wish to vanish. Then the worst thing happens: self-pity. The ugliest soul torture. Worthy of despise feeling.
Human beings are that fragile. Words are fearful weapons. Beware.

Lord Ganesh in a Chinese potato

I have always had a thing for movies that receive bad feedback both from critics and audience. That was the case with "Chandni Chowk to China", a Nikhil Advani movie, featuring Akshay Kumar, Deepika Padukone, Chia Hui Lui and Roger Yuan. I postponed watching it until last night, when I was in enough good mood to swallow any aberration.

Believe it or not, the flick managed to make me smile several times though it is a failure indeed. And I still wonder why, as it could have been a good commercial movie. The plot is clicheic, but afterall we all engage in the stories where the goofy, pathetic hero goes through an initiation process in order to get his revenge or to become the savior of the world. The fighting scenes are well done, even if exaggerated, but let’s not forget that for more rocambolesque jumps through the trees, "Crouching tiger hidden dragon" took an Oscar. Akshay is doing his best not to cross the line into the ridicule acting, Deepika, as the evil twin, is a pleasure for the eye with her almost manga look, Roger Yuan is so cute speaking Hindi... The cinematography, the editing, the soundtrack are all decent...so why all the money spent in such a super-production did not prove worthy? Why the two different nations combination did not work as it should?

The potential for a truly good comedy was huge. Remember Rush Hour? Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan's charismas were mind-blowing and highly entertaining. This is what "Made in China" (informal alternative title) lacks: the chemistry between the Hindi and Chinese actors. It was too soon to mix things at such huge level. Maybe with a smaller production in first place would have prepared better the audiences.

Lord Ganesh could not find the magic way to reveal himself through a Chinese potato. Yet.

Movies on fast forward

If someone had told me 10 years ago that one day I would do such a sacrilege to watch movies on fast forward,I would have probably been outraged. Who, me? People, I practically grew up in the cinema hall, as my parents worked their entire life in a cinema. My oldest memory IS from a movie: a cut head rolling down a hill. I guess it was Richard III with Lawrence Olivier. Every important moment of my development is tagged with a movie. I am a flick marathonist. I cherish and breath films and I have a great respect for everybody in this industry, from the extras, cameramen, props, to the directors, producers and actors.
And here I am in 2009, watching movies for maximum 1 hour and if they do not grasp my attention, I use the FF option on the player. Is it because I do not have patience anymore? Is it because the number of released movies is too big? Is it because of their quality? Is it because there are no new stories to be told? Or is it because time is too tight?
Sometimes I feel ashamed, sometimes not.

A tribute to Michael

I remember the times, when listening to Western music was a crime in our country. When communism used to block everything that came from outside. When the tapes and cassettes represented hard currencies. Michael Jackson managed to push away all these barriers and charmed our lives for good.

I was in love with him... His music and his performances helped me a lot during the teenage hood hardships. I grew up sane and responsible due to his values, kind soul and professionalism - though at that time I did not know this word, I understood the seriousness of each and every effort he made to meet his fans’ aspirations and expectations. He did not spare any tear, any sweat drop to reach perfection.

Like many others I thought I had a special connection with him and that is why, in spite of my friends' mockery, I always used to tell them: "Just wait and see, one day he will come to Romania". Of course the idea was utterly absurd, given the communist circumstances. But my dream and my conviction proved stronger than anything. December 1989 Revolution took place and we became free. In the beginning of 1992, first rumors appeared about his presence in Romania.

The miracle happened and I smiled. The feelings and emotions in the concert Michael put up for us cannot be described as words are too weak. Jacko had this incredible gift to split himself in thousands of pieces and giving himself to every person cheering for him. You could feel him hugging you and sharing his being with you. It was an incredible experience that marked my entire life. I saw then children, young people, old women, old men, from all walks of life, crying like babies.
I am so sorry for those who could not see him in flesh and blood, as the blessings of such magic moments cannot be bought.

Shortly before his death, Fred Astaire said: “I didn’t want to leave this world without knowing who my descendant was. Thank you Michael!” In a black June day, The King of Pop said good bye to Earth and joined Fred in the unknown. Let us imagine them both doing a tap dance for angels...as show must go on, even in Heaven.

Iran and the right to a better life

In the beginning I watched the Iran elections just as another happening. It was not like people were waiting for a huge surprise. The change was in the air and Moussavi seemed to be the natural choice of Iranians.
But no way. We have been reminded that human race is still a wild beast. When things were getting worse and first news of protesters in the streets hit the Internet I turned to CNN. Bang! CNN was quiet. Just cold and neutral articles, no passion involved. At that moment Twitter went on fire and it still is on fire. The entire twitterverse became green.

There are several tweeple from Iran who keep us updated as journalists and TV channels cannot keep up the pace with the events. UN and the other big international organizations are almost driving people crazy with their silence and lack of action. The governments adopted the policy "If I ignore the problem it does not exist". Waiting probably for Obama to be more than "deeply troubled"?
Lives were taken, but Iranians chose the right to a better life so now they are simply joining their hands in the street, without shouting, without violence.

Fear and hope are the only things left for them at present. Let's not close eyes and be by their side at least with our good thoughts and prayers. Let's keep #iranelection a trending topic until the sun will shine again.

An Ode to Mumbai

Why the hell anyone from Eastern Europe will dream of a city in India? Usually everybody here speaks about US, France, Germany, Spain (and I must admit Barcelona is my second runner-up), Italy, Canada, but never about the Asian part of the world (maybe as an odd curiosity, they would give a try to Japan, Singapore or Hong-Kong).
But for God's sake…India? And Mumbai? Where all the slums are? With dogs or without them... Where people wear all those funny clothes and do nothing else but watch TV in the streets, sing, eat spicy food, dance (via the Bollywood movies we used to watch as greatest hits in childhood, but now disregard them as being silly)? Brrr...

Come on, admit that these are the first images which come to your mind. But how many of us really try to understand or read more about a city that hosts approximately 19 million inhabitants (including the suburbs)? How many of us had a look at one of the most beautiful mosques in the world, Haji Ali? Oh, yeahh, now we probably know about the splendid Taj Mahal Palace or Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus, the incredible railway station, cause they had to be attacked by terrorists so that we could acknowledge their existence.
And of course we had to wait for Slumdog to get all the Oscars to turn our heads to the East and remember that Mumbai is the capital of Maharashtra state and the financial core of India. And those more economy oriented maybe managed to have a glimpse of the oldest Stock Exchange in Asia when couple of weeks ago, right after elections, the Mumbai market sky-rocketed and made brokers all over the world turn yellow with envy.

I have never been there, but yes, I dream of Mumbai with all its ups and downs. I dream of the busy streets, the traffic, the old and new restaurants, the markets, the Chowpatty beach, and the noise, the mix of people buzzing and walking anonymously and maybe dreaming in their turn to live somewhere else. Why? Because it feels like home. And as I told someone few days ago, for Mumbai I would fight even with the dragons.

Tweetship - a new kind of friendship?

Before phone, trains, cars, telegraph and photos changed the world completely, people from all corners of the world used to stay in touch through letters and little painted portraits. Most of them never got the chance to meet face to face.
Unbelievable as it may sounds today things are not so much different. Yes, we do have some pretty fancy tools to cut distances, but how many of us manage to see in flesh and blood the ones with whom they exchange ideas, projects, thoughts or feelings, especially now when social networking sites are flourishing?
Out of them, Twitter is the latest hype in town and not in vain. Twitter reminds me of Matrix, but in the good sense. The permanent buzz, the vibes,the laughs, the egos, the links, the connections, the virtual bridges on which you can walk and have a glimpse of what a New Yorker or a Mumbaikar is doing in that very moment you keep your eyes on the screen...
In time, reading practically haiku-like live journals, you cannot but get closer to completely strange people. As I said today to one of my twitter friends I love the mundane part of Twitter. Besides the information purpose, it is the human side that makes me come back every day in twitterverse. Yes, I like to read when someone has no parking place, or lost his byke keys, or is going to the dentist, or has a bad day in the office as much as I like to listen to their opinions on elections, movies, books, iPhone or the movements of Stock Exchange. This is what we do on a daily basis with our real friends. Sharing everything that surrounds us.
As in real life, you come to have close friends, friends, pals, acquaintances and for one and each of them you start to develop feelings: acknowledgement, respect, care, admiration, warmth, concern, tenderness...depending on the depth of relationship.
Tweetship is still the old kind of friendship but dressed up in 140 characters.

Epiphany in Munich

Yesterday I went for a second day "tourist" in Munich. The weather forecast was bad - heavy rain. But I was lucky and the sun was shining for couple of hours while I was wandering around. Heading to Asam Church (which is quite impressive, if you like late baroque or rococo architecture), my colleague wanted to share with me a view of a great garden (Hofgarten if I remember correctly, if not spare my mistake).
Approaching one arch side-entrance, the perfect quietness was broken by the notes of a violin. In the beginning, I thought there were some hidden loudspeakers, but I was so wrong.
Somewhere under the columns a man was playing Paganini. I went closer to him and I listened. The beauty of his interpretation made me cry. I experienced a rare state of grace. Time stopped and the world seemed to have become a concentration of sounds.
My tears were genuine and I did not wipe them away. They were a gift for a man who managed to touch my heart with such a force.

My world of small big things

Why Thais? I have been trying for more than 20 years to find an explanation. No clue yet.
Why blogging? Well, as "microblogging" via Twitter has proved an amazing experience in such a short time, why not upgrade a little bit?
Why small big things? Because life is as such. A micro-macro combo. Things that buzz us in a constant flow. With ups and downs.
Why now? Because I have zillions of tasks to accomplish and, as apparently I cannot prioritize, I reversed my plans and the bottom became the header.
I have the same feeling as when I wrote my first tweet. Shouting in a crowdy room without being heard by anybody. Until some time later when people turned to me and made eye-contact. And smiled. And shared. And nodded. Or simply noticed.
I am and will be grateful for any of the above.