Where are Thou...?

For thirteen days they hid under... praying, making supplication to the most high. Precisely ten years ago, Khali lost his father and an elder brother. The Israelis called it the "Grape of Wrath..." As the Israeli forces make incursion through wanton destruction in southern Lebanon...killing women and children, a friend of mine asked a dumb question..."is God/Allah partial...? I said... "what do you mean...? He then made reference to the sad story of Khali--a young Lebanese who lost his father and brother during an earlier (1996) invasion by Israel. In his rage, he asked why God/Allah would allow such oppression and killing of innocent children--especially babies. Why...?Why...? I reminded him of 9/11 and the July bombing of London in 2005. He went totally ballistic. F...ck the Americans and British people...they do not believe in God... But don't forget that in both incidence--9/11 and 7/7, there were 'supposed' christians and muslims...how do you reconcile that...? This 'nut' looked at me straight in the eyes and said..."they were all guilty by association..." So, how do you explain-- that for the umpteen time, the 'minute' state of Israel is able not only to pin the massive muslim states around her to submission, but defeat them collectively hands down...? Needless to add, that the 'infidel' Americans have somewhat restrained them (Israel) from an- all- out invasion. My friend became 'tongue-tied' for a moment. When he eventually found his voice, he concluded by saying..." I think there are TWO Gods-- Jehovah--God of the Israelis/Jews and Allah--God of the Muslims/Arabites... He said it... not me...

Odd But True...

A woman in Devizes, southern England, was awakened in the early morning hours by a telephone call. Hearing moaning, she thought it was an obscene call and hung up. When the phone rang again, bringing similar noises, she was about to hang up again until she recognized her daughter’s voice, yelling "Oh my God!" and followed by a man’s voice. Sure her daughter was being attacked at her home, mom called police, who sped to the scene to find the daughter quite willingly being ...uh... friendly with the man in her bedroom. In the throes of passion, the couple apparently accidentally pressed the "redial" button on the phone with their toes, connecting the boudoir to mom. "This is a warning for other people — if you’re going to indulge in this sort of thing, move the phone," a police spokesman said.


A university professor in Bologna, Italy, writing a paper on the sociology of love, checked his local library for books on kissing. Finding none in Italian, the library arranged for the interlibrary loan of four scholarly books on the subject — from Yorkshire, England. When the Yorkshire librarian called the Italian librarian to ask why the reputedly great-loving Italians didn’t have any academic books on such a basic topic, they retorted "Because we are far too busy doing it to write about it."

Claude A. Smith, 60, a black man housed in an Ohio prison, was in need of prostate surgery. Claude E. Smith III, 43, a white man who until recently was housed in another Ohio prison, is suing the state of Ohio for $3 million, claiming his prostate was removed in error when they sent for the wrong Claude Smith. He charges the operation left him impotent and without bladder control.

Paul Siemens, 18, of Chestnut Ridge, N.Y., graduated second in his class from Spring Valley High School. Despite having been accepted at Harvard to study biology, he has filed suit against the school district, calling their method of determining class rank "erroneous, arbitrary and capricious," and claiming that he would have been number one based on straight grade point average. The suit demands that he be made class valedictorian because in the future, graduate school entrance and grant awards will take his high school class rank into account, and he would be placed at a disadvantage by being ranked number two.This kid should go in for law instead of biology....

Researchers at the University of Southampton (England) have found that constant kneeling in prayer can cause arthritis of the knees. The study of 2,000 people found that excessive kneeling strains the knee, increasing wear of its cartilage. Most at risk are vicars, priests and nuns, the study said. (Reuters) ...While you’re down there, ask for money to pay for joint replacement surgery.

How Medicinal Is Your Urine...?

Of all the English words that try to explain the state of confusion in the form of embarrassment..., the one that fascinates me most is: 'tongue-tied'.

The adjective is so apt when you think of situations and events that have not only surprised you, but actually led to your embarrassment. To be 'tongue-tied'! What could possibly embarrass you to the point of speechlessness...?

Once I had walked into my best friend's sitting-room...lo and behold,his mother lay stark naked on the couch...
I was not tongue-tied, I screamed..."Jesus H. Christ"! I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I guess I said that a thousand times with my back turned.

Last night, after some pints of beer, I went to the 'gents' to relieve my urinary bladder that was threatening burst its seams...

I just started having my pee and feeling my bladder heave a sign of relief... when I noticed three white boys come into the toilet noisily.

One of them tapped me on the shoulder to draw my attention with these words: "I bet you haven't seen anything like this before.."

As I try to comprehend the import of his statement, he zipped down the fly of his trousers, brought out a monster-like 'willie' and started peeing.

It all happened in flash. One of the other guys just cupped his hands; scooped some urine from 'monster-like willie' and swallowed it...

Then, it was a free for all feast of happy urine drinking and splashing amongst the three...
I quietly and hastily left the loo before the idea of splashing their urine on me will occur to one and all...

When I got back to the bar, I narrated my ordeal to my South African companion...and all she could say was..."is that why you look as if you've seen a ghost...?"

I remained speechless! All I could say then was "...you act as if drinking and splashing urine amongst men or women(if I may add) is a normal everyday occurrence... is it? I asked her.

"Hey, relax... you're taking this too serious. In case you don't know, urine is medicinal..."
Somebody should please lecture me on how medicinal urine is...

And if urine is medicinal, is it another person's urine...? How safe is that?

What if the other person passing the urine has of the numerous urethra diseases like -- gonorrhea, syphylis or chlamydia...? How medicinal would that be...?

She too became 'tongue-tied'....

...Is it Really Good to be Back...?

I haven't been to the village in fourteen years--not because I dislike village life, but because, I have nobody familiar enough to embrace and accommodate me. Sounds very funny--isn't it?
But, thats the implication of having parents (from different cultures) who spent almost their entire lives abroad.
You are in the village as a matter of necessity. And you are like a baby learning everything anew.

You get introduced to every passer-by. This, somehow embarrasses you. Why, you do not know.
Then, those wrinkled hands of some hag--that you've always considered to be witches try to cuddle you--involuntarily, you cringe. They sense your action. But they don't say a word--instead, they look at your Dad straight in the eyes.
That look that says "its all your fault... you should have brought them to the village more often... that way, they need not be afraid of their kilt and kin..."

The village setting reminds you of the hilarous comic character called Nkem Owoh. The uptight economy has virtually turned everyone into greedy comedians. They all want more like Oliver Twist.
When you try to explain that the 'Pound-Sterling' is very difficult to get, they laugh...that kind of laughter that insinuates they understand-- but they don't; because they still continue to make these endless demands on you.

You are sympathetic. But you cannot solve all of their problems this one time...
To some, you make this empty promise...' I will send you more money when I get back...'
And to others you genuinely feel like helping...but, you are constrained by your tight budget...
So, you make the same promise...'I will send you some money when I get back...ok...

You are back. Your mortgage (loan repayment) is overdue. Your bills piled up--inspite of the fact that you were away for twenty-six days.
You sit down to reflect... but you don't feel relieved... because, you don't know which is better-- the agressive, needy villagers you fled from or the mortgagee and debt collectors whose embrace you ran into...