Calgary

Work had me on the road again...this time, the destination was Calgary, Canada. The flight was a blur, the first thing I recall however was my surprise when I discovered in Calgary that the CAD had more value than the USD. Pardon my french, but in my mind I was like ..."WTF! U've gotta be kidding me". Well, the sad truth was that the USD had lost its glamour. I changed a few notes and resolved to stick to my Visa card. I love travelling but I hate going on trips alone. So as much as the business trips give me an all-expense paid mini vacation, I don't really enjoy it that much. I had a jacuzzi in my hotel room, well for the money I was paying, it had to be there! Unfortunately I wasnt thrilled by the luxury of the jacuzzi, I used the shower instead. I'll only get in to a jacuzzi with my girlfriend! I'm a simple fella (lol), my hedonistic tendencies are ephemeral.

Calgary is a beautiful city, expensive but beautiful! The cuisine was excellent. Sampled a few restaurants just to get a feel of the town. First stop was @ "Clay Oven", a little Indian restaurant, the food was wonderful. Spicy with loads of zest, in sharp contrast to the soothing music, the effect was almost zen-like yet fiery! On my second day, I tried out a mediterranean spot, "The Mirage". To be sincere, the reason why I went there was cos my guide swore that their shisha was good. Considering that I'm not a smoker, I happen to fancy the aroma of shisha, quite different from the roughness of hashish. The kebab was excellent, the aroma of the shisha made me feel like Aladdin, dunno if Aladdin smoked a hookah though (lol). I kept picturing myself floating on a Persian rug with Coco, arabian night style.

Day 3 featured a rendezvous @ a swanky cafe, can't recall if the name was Red Lotus or Red Cafe but it did have this oriental feel to it, though the waitresses looked like models and were all wearing minis! Excellent salmon sandwich, now I understand why people love the good life! I try not to recall the size of the bill for each outing. Day 4 was a trip to Joey Tomato's. I highly recommend that you check out Joey's if you are ever in Calgary, simply sublime food!

Oh well, I've been writing only about food (lol). But apart from work, thatz about the only thing I do on my travels, sample the food. The trip back to Jersey was definitely interesting, was picked out for a random search TWICE! I don't want to call it profiling or anything but for some reason people don't seem to believe I am an engineer (and a darn good one!). I may dress casual and look a lil rough, but do not be deceived, I'm very good at what I do (sampling food!). Anyway, I opted for a body pat-down instead of having some random dude snickering at my vitals in x-ray mode.

I've always wondered about moving to Canada. My only hesitation stems from their atrocious weather, in summer it feels heavenly, but in winter...think of Alaska, bitter cold. I don't think my wife would fancy the cold that much. Well, I'm back in Brick City, at least for a week, then I'll jet off to Tel Aviv on another trip. Will def give you details on how that turns out.

I keep dreaming about winning the lottery (lol)...say a prayer for me will ya?

Origin

Itz hard to coherently describe my thots nowadays. Don't ask me why, I'm happier than I've been in ages. I sleep with a smile on my face, dawn comes with rejuvenated joy.I'm immune to writer's block, I guess I'm just nervous about baring my soul for the world to read, so I restrict most of my writing to the pages of my mind. Page after page, the ink bleeds, giving shape to letters, words and thots. I'm a dreamer, I don't make any apologies for it, dreams are the framework of my reality. I live in my imagination, if I can't visualize it, then it doesn't make much sense to me. I paint in my dreams, bold patches of color mingled with patches of nondescript blankness, an urban rainbow meshed in an orthodox jungle. The beautiful thing about art is itz blurring clarity, different visuals elicit varying interpretations. An apple on a tree evokes memories of the forbidden fruit, viewed from wide angles the main characters in the picture have different perspectives, why was the apple forbidden, was Adam with Eve when the snake made a move? Let's see if we can work with that...


"It was a beautiful afternoon, darkness was an anomaly in the Garden, the sun hung suspended in the skies, you could feel the soft breeze on your skin, the sweet fragrances in the air...you could also hear the leaves of the apple tree whispering softly, gently caressed by the wind, they swayed with a hidden passion to rhythms that were unknown to the human mind. She gazed at the apple...Was it curiosity in her eyes? amazement? wonder? He lay right next to her...just beneath the shade of the tree. His eyes firmly fixed on her, love deeply etched in his gaze, she was his rib after all, so his heart beat to her rhythm...Its voice was charming, smooth like sparkling wine, polished and hypnotic...the voice spoke to her...soft yet firm...she fell...that was the turning point...he would do anything for her..."

Itz not hard to visualize...

Morning Blues...

The cock never crows in the city...
Sleep ushers in the sweetest thots...
Dreams never felt so good...
Cocooned in layers of Coco berry moments...
Frozen time, zero gravity...
Pearls of laughter, shaped like tear-drops...
Nectar soaked voice, rhythmic sweet buzz...
Dancing eyes, swaying to visual salsa melodies...
Smooth bronze skin, kissed by the sun...
Body curves fluid and merging like poetry...
A beautiful heart, sound mind...
She glances in his direction...
Fluttering eyelashes...
Lips curved by the symmetry of her smile...
The clock chimes...7 A.M
Love tastes so good...

The Usual Suspects vol. 1

Manhattan, NY...
A few weeks ago...

Time was about 4am, that hour of the morning when the clouds turn in their slumber, stretching and awaiting the morning kiss of the sun. Twas still pitch black, but typical of the city, the purity of the night was defiled by taxi horns and the merry laughter and raised voices of clubgoers on their journey home. That was the scene @ 29th and 7th ave... can't recall the exact coordinates, after effects of an alcohol spiked mind. Clumsy footfalls announced the oncoming entourage, the Usual Suspects, on the way back from the club, trading tales of the escapades of the night...Gusty laughter bounces into the night as one awkward detail is revealed, only to be outdone by another. Suddenly, the equilibrium of the exodus home gets shattered by one unlikely act...

A stunning catwalking chick enters the picture, clothes clinging to the outline of her body, sashaying on heels that defied logic, a'kin to your typical Kodak moment that snaps you out of your reverie. Laughter is paused in motion, eyes slowly navigate to her figure...then the trance is broken by one simple action. Was she a lady in red? nah, she was clad in black, all black. Whilst the usual suspects glanced admiringly at her, she plunged her hand into her purse brought out her phone, placed it to her right ear and continued walking...Now try to understand this...the Usual Suspects were walking on the curb, they may have been tipsy, but their vision and thinking was straight, "La femme fatale" in black was strutting on the street... So the following convo ensued...

Usual Suspect # 1: Yo Shawtie, Don't act like u r on the phone, I know you aint talking to no one on that phone and while u are at it, stop walking on the street...

La Femme Fatale a.k.a. Shawtie: Say what? For your information, I have a 3.5 GPA and I'm doing my masters, so watch your mouth...

Usual Suspect # 2: What has your GPA got to do with this?

Usual Suspect # 1: You still aint talkin to no one on the phone, stop faking!

La Femme Fatale a.k.a. Shawtie: @#%$*%! eyes rolling, attitude on full blast...You have a stupid accent!

Usual Suspect # 3: Accent? What type? British? Look at this brooklyn babe o...

Usual Suspect # 4: Everybody take a deep breath, we all need to relax...

All hell breaks lose! fingers wagging, raised voices mingled with laughter, lost directions...where did we park the car? circus...

Just another day...

One other thing...
I was a guest speaker at a recent event and one of the questions I posed to the audience was "Would I hire ME?" Got me thinking later about a chain of other questions...The concept behind the question was to place urself in the shoes of the other party...stand before a mirror and ask ur reflection a simple question..."Would u hire me?" "Would u date me if I asked?" "Would u marry me if I proposed/asked?"...Real tough question...I sure do know that I would marry me! I am a certified pro, a confirmed cook, a handy man, and a host of other stuff! What more could I want? wink wink...Narcissism...lol

BoYs DoN't CrY

Growing up, there was a general misconception every boy was unconsciously exposed to. It was a simple unspoken idea but looking back at time, itz amazing to realize the depth of its impact. Boys don't cry. Even if u did, you were not supposed to. Tears were seen as a sign of weakness, an emotion that was permitted only for girls. We often saw our mothers cry while we were kids but Dad never shed a tear. As much as we loved our mothers, we all wanted to be tough like our fathers. The absence of tears was the final emphasis on masculinity and believe me as a kid, that was the peak most young folks struggled to attain.



Now here comes the interesting part, the absence of tears didnt necessarily translate to inability to feel pain. So inadvertently as a little kid, when the hands of pain bit down on my senses and the tears welled up, I fought to hold them back, often biting down in my mind. The image was a'kin to a picture of a little kid trying to prevent a boulder from rolling down a slope. In most cases, it ended up in failure, the boulder overpowers the feeble strength of the kid, rolls down the slope, so do the tears, but the scary thing is that a powerful and scarily negative character starts to grow...mind control. Do you know that tears are an avenue for emotional release? Little phrases come to my mind, when the clouds are full of rain, they empty themselves...



As time went by, the volume of tears receeded, from a flood to a trickle. The little boy in the imagery had grown stronger, not necessarily bigger or older, but his mind had toughened. His mental muscles bulged as he held back the boulder, the pain bit into his arms, illusionary blood streaming down his face like liquid fire...but he held on to the boulder...the boulder didnt roll down the hill, the tears never fell...And amongst his peers, he was praised as being "tough". So the little kid became a man inside, earned the grudging admiration of his friends and the awe of people around. The physical pain was easy for him to bear, he shrugged it off easily, twas just a single huge boulder, the more he worked out in his mind, the easier it was for him to hold it in place... As he grew older, physical pain evaporated, pain is gain, his pain threshold grew, holding back the boulder was a'kin to pushing weights...The older he grew, the more indifferent he became, till emotional release all but vanished in his mind...Then he came face to face with a new type of pain...

Emotional pain is unlike physical pain...The imagery changed from a boulder rolling down a slope to a flood rushing down a slope and into a room. At first the young man was perplexed, he spread his arms as if to push the flood back, but it was futile. The waves hit him from all angles, till he was disoriented. The more he fought, the weaker he became. After many efforts, he stopped fighting and swam with the current. But that was'nt a solution either, each time the floods came and he tried swimming with the currents, he was tossed from side to side, he had no control, and mind control had become his muse. So he sought advice. There were many theories and simulations on how to deal with a flood. Channel the flood some said, but it sounded like a waste of energy. He did give it a shot, by channeling the flood, he turned into a machine, he stored the water in gallons, till it filled the room he lived in, So he gave up that idea. Then one day he felt he had stumbled upon the answer. So he simply shut the door to the room, "Let's see how you'll get in!", he said to the imaginary flood.

And it worked like a charm. Each time the flood came, it battered the room, but the flood never came in. It hit the room from all sides, the room's foundation creaked, little cracks appeared in the walls, which he patched up. Because he didnt know when the flood would come, he lived in the house and never ventured outside...Time flew by...Seasons came and went...Then one day he woke up and couldnt remember how long he had spent inside the room. He peaked out of the windows wearily, torn between venturing outside and staying in the room. Then he made up his mind. He walked up to the door, he didnt just open it, he removed it completely. Then he walked back into the room, and made holes at the corners of the room. He went about his life, happy as a lark! Did he live happily ever after? Well, you'll have to wait and find out...

The floods did come again. It flowed into the room as usual, but this time, the water trickled out of the hole and out of the room. He lay on his bed, as the water level steadily dropped, trickling out of the holes in the room, the tears streamed down his face, and kept flowing, till the water emptied out of the room...

BuRiEd EmOtIoNs

There is a thin line between a daydream and ...
...a dream forged at night...
For with eyes closed, u see with your imagination...
A feeling close to painting on a transparent canvas...
Floating in the subconscious with reckless abandon...
The thrill is undeniable...
The colors bright, in contrast to the darkness of the night...
Wishes and desires stretch out their limbs...
And take form slowly like illusions...
At first tentative, like the uncertain steps of an infant...
U totter on the edge of reason and consciousness...
Then you let go and slowly merge with the vapors of your mind...
But a daydream is different...
With eyes wide open, the sensation is a'kin to a self induced trance...
The imagery though blurry, feels like deja-vu...
Flashes of color, intertwined with monochromatic shades...
Like a blast of cold wind on a summer afternoon...
Tell-tales to the dreams of the night...
U open ur eyes to realize that they are vacant...
Though the sun shines bright overhead, the moon glows in your view...
illumination provided by sparkling stars...
Then in a split second, the sensation fades...
And u wonder if it ever happened at all...
Clarity returns with the wind's whisper in my ears...

Revolution and the Social Network

The movie "Schindler's List" changed my life. Maybe not literally but it did transform my perspective of life. I've learnt to be frugal with myself but extravagant in charity and philantropy, cos you never really understand the impact you can have in someone's life. I'm happy when the people I love are happy, I am happy when my friends are happy. And if I can I in my own little way positively impact someone's life, then I'd be delirious with joy. That's why I respect the likes of Bill Gates and Warren Buffet, individuals who have dedicated their wealth to positive goals. I am not asking anyone to be altruistic in any way, but if we all reached out and helped someone else, even if itz just one person, then the world would be a much better place..."Pay it forward"

The recent events in Egypt and Tunisia got me wondering...What actually triggers a revolution? I've always believed that it takes a single monumental act of madness (Biafra) or defiance (MLK & the Civil Rights Movement) for the dam to break. But the status quo in Tunisia and Egypy caught me by surprise. I wouldnt peg it as a reaction borne out of frustration or years of inaction, on the other hand, I'd rather point a finger and say this was a rebellion fuelled by the power of the social network and the media. The power of the social network as a tool for revolution cannot be ignored, Blackberry, Facebook, Twitter...itz so easy to start a wild fire nowadays! No need to call a crowd and broadcast an " I have a dream" speech, no need to instigate an uprising by demanding access to the media, Facebook and Twitter fuelled with the efficacy of BB and other smartphones makes it easy to start a revolution in minutes. Sometimes, it scares me...The inherent power in those little devices is incredulous...

The next step is still cloudy? Tunisia settled theirs pretty quickly, Egypt is still trapped in the throes of revolution fire, gradually ebbing out as the days go by or maybe coming to a climax in a few days. The worrisome situation however is in Ivory Coast...2 presidents in one country, no revolution, no resolution, just an uncomfortable impasse that doesnt seem to have an end in sight. Who knows, maybe if Ivory Coast had a significant social network footprint, things would have been different...who knows? Anyway, I still wonder if there'll be a similar trend in Nigeria, a social network fuelled revolution may be disrupted easily by NEPA/PHCN. After all, you can only send messages if your phone battery aint dead, #justsaying#...

Who knows? Future election results may be announced on Facebook and Twitter..."The Electoral Board Chairman just tweeted that XYZ won the Presidential Elections / He also sent the details of the results to CNN's inbox via Facebook / To see the complete results, please follow the Electoral Board Chairman on Twitter and become a fan of CNN on Facebook/ And by the way, add me on BBM..."

Disclaimer: This blog is not a political tool, the views expressed therein are strictly fictitious and solely the imaginations of the writer...random thoughts that seep into his subconscious when he isnt daydreaming about Coco...mental nirvana