An Ode from My Childhood

In the shower last night, I found myself waltzing lyrical, reciting a poem I read ages ago in the pages of a nondescript English language comprehension textbook at primary school.

Who has seen the wind?
neither I nor you:
but when the leaves hang trembling
the wind is passing thro'

Who has seen the wind?
neither you nor I:
but when the trees bow down their heads
the wind is passing by

---Christina Rossetti

Whatever precipitated that cognitive itch I don’t really know.
But that got me thinking.
What self-respecting man recites a poem learnt at primary school in the shower, a poem probably now reserved for the exclusive use of children with special needs at a grade F crèche?
Why is my brain taking me back to primary school anyway?
Maybe I have not really learnt anything worth my brain’s while since my primary school days. Perhaps my pitiful cognitive play list is made up of that solo number and my brain is trying hard to preempt from carrying on like that.
Be it as it may, thanks to months of exposure to NY’s cookery of poetic classics, I am beginning to discover the enchanting, beautiful and colorful landscape of poetry. Now I see poetry all around me. And who knows?

Perhaps, reciting that poem under the shower was the awakening of a unfulfilled need within myself or the beginning of a literary adventure of a lifetime.
Whatever it is, I can’t wait any longer!

PS: Check my second blog here

My Creative Corner @ Home

Forget the study room. And also the dining room.
Sitting in front of the TV does not do it for me either.
The bedroom, hmmm, is for other essential services.
What does it for me is the shower.
I am talking about the particular spot at home where I am at my peak when it comes to generating creative ideas!
My time under the shower, under the torrents of precious warm water, is also the time when I am most imaginative, most creative and most artistic. Shower time tickles my creative fancy like nothing else.
You simply cannot believe some of the serious out-of–the-box thinking that goes on there. Many are the breathtaking speeches, the applause-inducing oratories, the award-winning performances, the fantastic presentations, the grandiose business ideas, the spectacular solutions to complex global mathematical formulations, the angelic melodies and other einsteinian discoveries that have taken place right under the shower.
The problem is: the creative juices quickly dry up as soon as I get out of the shower.
Why is that the case?

Booby Trap

With breasts inflated as balloons
How come you walk on soily ground like the rest of us
Held down by earth's incessant pound

Pump baby pump
One day You will trade
The lowly strut For the saintly grade

Run baby run
Soon you will fly
Away
From minds that grasp your bosom to ply

Soar baby soar
Free from earth's trap
Amongst dancing stars up yonder in fervent clap

Shape Up Or I am a Goner!

Having teasingly belittled the superfluous ultimata of a live-in partner to shape up on the kilos, a dame of ugly Betty's frame, came home from work one day to find the belongings of her man (known via a mutual friend) shipped out from their townhouse abode.
Perplexed she swaggered her way to beloved fridge for lard-loaded consolation only to be greeted by a quickie note:
You failed to shape up, so I have decided to ship out. Fat chance!

Obfuscation

In a small enterprise with a full complement of staff numbering 10, what do you consider to be the real meaning of the title:
Junior Associate Deputy Vice Foreman?
That is the official title of one of the overworked and underpaid workers.
I kid you not!

BioLogics of Hillbrow

Last Saturday I was in Hillbrow, the infamous epicentre of criminality in the environs of Johannesburg's Inner City.
The last time I was there, three years ago I think, I was robbed in broad daylight in a street full of people. Not only was no finger lifted to my defence by those in the street, they carried on as if they had witnessed nothing unusual. I guess to the residents of this notorious jungle of crime issues of robbery, murders, thuggery and other forms of crime are simply part of their dairy lives and therefore, it appeared to me, there was no need to make any fuss about another normal activity!
Even though I vowed never ever to venture into that part of town, I found myself in the that vicinity as I had to drop a friend who needed to be there to get his car from a mechanic's workshop.
My car was parked a good distance away and we walked a great deal of distance to the mechanic's workshop. On the way there, I realised that Hillbrow as it was three years ago has seen little, if any, changes at all. The most conspicuous difference was the large number of people standing on the street pavements hawking and passing out tracts and pamphlets to those passing-by.
This time though the closest I came to being mobbed was when three different tracts were thrust into my hands in a short space of time along yettah street.
All the three tracts, even though different in colour, advertised the services of one Dr. Musah from Uganda.
According to what was written on the papers, Dr. Musah has the skills and power(or is it magic) to boost the girth, length and strength of a certain part of the body to make my woman supremely happy. Provided were contact numbers and address for consultation.

I could not stop thinking about how he does that sort of thing. Even though I am not a biologist by any stretch of imagination, I think I am not ignorant as to the basic biology of how muscles develop. I was taught years ago that the way to build huge muscles is through exercising them regularly.
Obviously Dr. Musah is operating in the realms of biology beyond the borders of our solar system. Dr. Musah's promises are a great deal outside the logic of the biology that I was taught.

Paraskavedekatriaphobia

Some folks, the insanely superstitious, regard Friday as an unlucky day.
Many more actually believe that the number 13 is freakishly ominous, yeah think about wasting ones heart, life and time believing in a crap like that.
So whenever the number 13 coincides with a Friday, like it is today, alarm bells begin to ring for these folks and they revert to an alternative course of action in all their activities.
Many are the bizarre and strange things that will be done on a day like today to deal with the bad energy, bad omen and bad karma that the believing folks actually perceive are floating around to fall upon them.
Some folks will dress 'differently' in order to deflect bad omens.
Others prepare special menu for the day, avoiding all things involving meat.
Many others play special music to soak their minds in positive thoughts.
Some religiously turn their beds to face a certain direction and recite formulaic incantations the whole night until they fall asleep. Others choose to leave their own beds to sleep in with family members.
Some do not travel at all to avoid accidents, others do not even bother to leave their 'spiritually fortified' homes.
Others become overly careful in making sure that no black cats crosses their paths.
Some amongst them put their best foot forward and treat everyone they meet with absolute courtesy in other to reap a harvest of goodwill from colleagues and acquaintance on a day like today.
Some of the folks that did not perch up for work today, feigning sickness, were actually in bed, nursing their souls from the horrors of this fear. So also is that guy or lady, who under normal circumstance is unfriendly, but chose to shower insane amounts of generosity on everyone today. Spare a thought and a prayer for them all.

Paraskavedekatriaphobia, the fear of Friday the 13th , is a real affliction.

Have a blessed weekend folks.

Plumber Gives Away Plum Treasure

In this dreary season of severe shortage of all manner of cash, how could a cash-forsaken plumber mistake a bounty of a treasure for a bomb?
A clueless plumber digging a drainage system for the purpose of installing water pipes in the East Rand of Johannesburg comes across a sopping cooler box buried about two metres below the surface.
Convinced that he had chanced upon a deadly cocktail of super bombs similar to Saddam Hussein's yet unearthed weapons of mass destruction, he dialed the police hot-line to report that the clicking devices are about to flatten the motherland.
The bomb disposal unit arrives in a flash.
Box is meticulously opened and... instead of a dreadful beast of super bombs, they unwrap 1.5 million rands in hard cool cash.
Cops dutifully load bounty into their car for 'further investigations', leaving behind bewildered plumber to his fate of digging up dirt.

What would you have done?

No More Turning Back

Looking at her balanced delicately before the laptop on the dining table, I expressed a mischievously delightful chuckle within. What convinced her to settle down with me in the first place? Is there something she sees that is hidden from me? These are some of the questions that have been invading my mind recently. A recent phone call from a lady, an old schoolmate living on another continent, seeking to re-establish our long-lost friendship may be the reason for the self-induced questionnaire. As much as I have tried to chat with her, my heart is persuading me to cut the ties. I guess I have moved on and as they say sleeping dogs should be left to lie.
I am surely not cut in the mold of prince charming( PC). In fact I consider myself as the very antithesis of whoever and whatever PC is supposed to be in the real world. Can a man really grasp the concept of womanhood? Can a woman ever truly grasp what makes a real man to tick? Are the expectations of the genders a true reflection of reality, or are they just part of a life-long game of adventures which were never meant to be comprehended in the first place?

Most women, I am told start dreaming of prince charming from as early as their third year of birth. The handsome, intelligent and wealthy alpha male with a knack for creating loads of humour, joy and bliss is the dream man for most daughters of eve. I am still struggling to create a balcony of harmony in my own life, in my family so I don't understand what is going on.

Whatever is supposed to be the perfect and ultimate solution of the puzzle of love, there is one thing I think I am awakening to. And that is: I now really know that I am in love with my wife.

Protectionism vis-a-vis Globalization

Until the the second half of 2008, the global economy was purring along with little or no bumps.
For a period of about three decades, the fortunes of many nations and societies have irrevocably changed for the better. Countries like Singapore, South Korea, Taiwan and many others in the South East Asian sub-continent were able to modernise their economies by developing competitive advantages in modern technologies and other industries. Around the same time the old iron curtain of the Soviet bloc was crumbling which led to a groundswell of democratic awakening in eastern Europe, a factor responsible for the spike in the demand for the goods and services of the rapidly developing nations of Asia and the developed west.
The foundation of this unprecedented economic growth and rapid transformation in many countries was laid in the seventies. And there is no doubt that the driving force behind global economics was globalization.
China, India, Brazil and Russia ( BRIC) were the next wave of nations to fire up globalization.
The wave of rapid development having bypassed the continent of Africa in the nineties, the fortunes of many nations on the continent were beginning to point north when sadly the inflated balloon was poked. (Read this post for more information on how the global economy went belly up.)
For the three decades that nations embraced the concept of globalization and free trade, their human development indices improved dramatically. That is why recent moves by the developed north to curtail globalization must be a worry for all of us.
Today many of the nations that ardently preached the doctrine of globalization are themselves retreating into protectionism. The "Buy American" clause in the Obama administration's stimulus package recently passed in the US capitol, the comments by UK premier, Gordon Brown, that British jobs should be for British people and many other recent attempts by western nations to enact emergency anti-globalization measures as means to preserve their economies must surely be keeping many nations wondering what the future has in store for global trade.
For the sake of Africa's future, I really pray and hope that the doors of global trade are not slammed shut.
We cannot miss the golden opportunity at our doorstep.

Square Root Day!

Today, 3/3/09, is square root day!
This is an exclusive holiday for math-buffs. For those of you who are not that into the lovely lady, mathematics, three is the square root of nine. Even though I do not count myself as a 'square', nor a lover of roots, I think there is something beautiful in the way numbers and their roots pair up for this math tango.
In every century, square root day occurs only nine times. Because of its acute rarity, the celebrants of this nerdish festival design fetish spreadsheets of dates, hours, minutes and seconds for the sole purpose of enjoying what they see as super days.
Some people celebrate the day by cutting root vegetables and tubers into squares of different sizes, others make food in the shape of the square root symbol served in square plates.
The previous square root day was five years ago, 2 February 2004. The next one is seven long years away, on 4 April 2016.
Let us hope that by then the square root of the problems of Africa would have been found and the prosperity of Africa squared.
A very happy square root day to you all!!!!