Fight The Good Fight

You know how i can tell that this post was meant to be written?

Halfway through writing it, my iPad just restarted and I lost everything I had written up to that point! That pretty much sums up 2014, and we're only 2 months into the year. My battle-weary bones are screaming for a time-out. I've heard of a lady who does spiritual healing and aligns your chakras. Maybe I'll have that done. I'm not sure what aligning the chakras are all about, but it sounds like something important. Maybe after I've had my chakras aligned I'll stop pulling to the left or suddenly start wobbling at high speed. Admittedly aligning the chakras does sound like something only a professional should be doing. Someone like Tiger Wheel & Tyre.

So I made a bucket list at the end of 2013, and this past week I had some time to go through the list and amend it. By amend it I mean delete 95% of everything I initially put down and focus on just 2 items.

# My health (well that's kind of in a spiral that has a life form all of its own. Even my doctor has taken up smoking with all the stress my health has given him, and Discovery is considering naming a new health policy after me.)

# The New Business Venture. This is something exciting that I've always wanted to do but always second-guessed myself on. I should have done it 2 years back but alas fate led me down another path. The opportunity has presented itself again, and everybody knows opportunity never knocks twice... So here goes nothing :) 

Watch this space!

In other news, Villa Kaloo is on the market and as much as I love my home, I think it's time for change. We're considering a move to the coast. The pursuit of quality of life I guess.

Clearly there are big changes ahead. 

Moving right along. 

It's election time again, which means promises of a better life for all and a prosperous future will be sprinkled about like rice at a Chinese wedding. I'm currently working on an election post as well and I think you'll be surprised at who could potentially get my vote.

Ok I'm seriously going to have to end this post right here because Piranha 3DD is currently on the telly and it's just so shockingly bad, it's actually quite riveting!

Life Begins At 40

I feel so much wiser suddenly. More mature even. More grown-up almost.
I feel like my grandfather (who quite possibly became a grandfather by the age of 40!)

It's like I went to bed on the 22nd of January, the night before my birthday, and woke up on the day of my birthday with a Wisdom Elixir. That and a bigger belly.
Or maybe, just maybe, somewhere in the run-up to this milestone birthday, I realized that letting go is the greatest reward you can give yourself.

Letting go of everything and everybody that holds you back.
Letting go of every thought and memory that casts a dull cloud over a sunny disposition.
Letting go of people's perceptions of you, and realizing that it's more important to think of yourself highly than for others to do so.

I used to sign my emails off a few years ago with the tagline "Fight The Good Fight."
In all honesty I never really took the time to fully understand what that meant. I do now. We spend our lives putting out petty fires that never really threaten the well-being or livelihood of the forest. We get so engrossed in righting every wrong that we lose focus of simply enjoying the moment for what it is.

Sometimes letting go means having to walk away from people or situations that at one point meant all the world to you.
Sometimes it's your closest and dearest friends.
Sometimes it's your very livelihood and work environment.
Sometimes, yes sometimes, it's family.
There really is only so much you can do and give of yourself before you need to let go and move on. Find another pasture, another wolf-pack, another crew.

Last year I found my crew. I found the group of crazy individuals who make me feel whole. People I can let my hair (what little hair I have left) down in front of, laugh until my belly aches with, and even wear my silk gown in front of on a night out at a fancy restaurant :)

In them I have found my garden of youth, and as with any garden, I guess it will constantly need pruning and have the weeds removed.... but I feel as though it's a garden I belong in.
The night of my birthday was special for many reasons.
Having such dear friends stand up and tell me why I mattered to them, why I wasn't insignificant, and why the friendship lives and breathes was the kind of gift you could never put a price or value on.
For this and for having them in my circle of friends, I am truly honored and grateful.

People always start the year off saying "This is the year for change."
That's great, just as change is great. Except when you're 6 months into the year and haven't changed a thing. Step 1 for me was to stop hoarding. Stop hoarding people in my life like they were old bicycle parts which were never going to be of any help or value. Let go of the clutter. Focus on what matters and forget about what doesn't. If the fire is not going to burn down the forest, stop trying to put it out. Let it burn itself out.

And find your wolf-pack :)

Forecast: Doom & Gloom

Really?
That's what she said.
*shrugs*

Hello 2014 you old bastard you.

So I challenged myself to a social media/internet hiatus for 30 days and I won!
Well OK maybe not exactly 30 days but who's counting? Someone dared me to it. At first I thought I would succumb after 3 hours. Break out in hives. Faint from a bout of Twitchy Thumb Syndrome. Have my blood pressure plunge worse than the Rand even. So I gave it some thought and decided that the best and most challenging and testing of times to be completely offline in every sense of the word, would be whilst on holiday. Sort of force myself to look at the missus and kids in the eye while having dinner at an actual table with real crockery. Not upload every meal pic or sunset onto Instagram. Not tweet every time something ridiculously funny happened in my day, and ridiculously funny things seem to happen around me quite often, as you know. Not comment on friends uploading pics of their cat's playing Mozarts 5th Symphony on Facebook.

So there I was at the end of Day 1 wondering what was happening in the world and looking up at the stars trying to figure out if planet earth was still in orbit. I figured the galaxy hadn't yet noticed my absence and simply continued on it's merry milky way totally oblivious of the huge void I had left in socialmediasphere. Yes that's a word. Google it. Ok don't. I haven't created it's Wikipedia page yet. I've only been online for 15 minutes!
Where was I?
Aah yes.
Me.
Black hole.
Void.
Doom & Gloom.
*tsk tsk*

Well you will be glad to know that I made it through an entire holiday, including Christmas eve, New Years eve, a 24 hour stomach bug that hit Durban yet miraculously missed me, some crazy Indian who wiped his family out with a religious stick, and even our President Jacob Zuma declaring yet ANOTHER war on corruption, without me having tweeted or facebooked any of it!

I learned some valuable lessons during this experience.
I shall share them with you in no particular order.
# Quality time spent with your family and loved ones are precious moments which must be seized upon at every opportunity.
# Today's breaking news will be tomorrow's litter-box lining.
# Take some time out to chat to your maker, whatever you may call him. It does your soul more good than you could possibly imagine.
# Social Media is great, but face-to-face is even better.
# Some people don't trust non-drinkers. Some people don't trust vegetarians. I don't trust people who say "I miss you."

If the signs are anything to go by, and there have been many, 2014 is going to be a year filled with change. Hopefully some notes too.
Those pesky coins can get annoying sometimes.

Nelson Mandela's Legacy : A 7 Year Old's View

       

It was a warm and humid Thursday evening and we had just left a beautiful prayer evening ready to embark on our individual journeys home. Standing around our vehicles and saying our goodbyes, someone had turned their ignition on and the sound of a breaking news radio report came booming across the driveway.

It was the voice of our President, Jacob Zuma, informing us that the father of the nation and the most loved and respected man in the history of our beloved country had passed on.

The time was 11:07pm.

You could hear a pin drop.

We knew that Madiba had not been well, and we as a nation were preparing ourselves for this day. Yet nobody anticipated the shock and despair we would feel when the day finally arrived. We later learnt that Madiba had passed on peacefully in his sleep at 8:50pm that night.

We went to pay our respects at Madiba's Houghton home on Saturday night and the mood was simply electric yet somber. 

How is this possible you ask?

Imagine an intersection in a leafy suburb bursting with throngs of people, South Africans and foreigners alike, the young and the old, black and white and every other color of the rainbow, lighting candles in one corner, laying wreaths in another, writing eulogy notes on scraps of paper, saying silent prayers, singing struggle songs and dancing, all while rejoicing the life that was Nelson Rohlihlahla Mandela.

The worlds media were there in droves. I imagine they still are, as they have been since the day Madiba first went into hospital almost a year ago.

Through all the dancing and singing and clicking of cameras, I heard a tiny whimper next to me and looked down to see my 7 year old daughter Sabreen in tears.

I kneeled down before her thinking she was afraid of everything happening around her. Kids at this age are easily scared of crowds and boisterous activity. I assumed she needed me to hold her hand and assure her of her safety.

I whispered and asked her why she was crying.

She replied through soft tears and an even softer voice, "The best President we've ever had has died Dad!"

My own tears seemed to defy my steely composure and soon flowed freely.

Nelson Mandela was a man she had never met and had at best only ever heard about. 

Remember that from 2010 he had reclused himself from public life as his health deteriorated. She would have been 4 years old at the time. There was no context for Sabreen to place Madiba's greatness. She hadn't seen nor lived through his Presidency.

Yet the outpouring of love and admiration and respect on the night that she was witnessing left her in no doubt that this was no ordinary man. 

Such is the legacy of Madiba.

Many have written and spoken about the effect he has had on their lives, and he has touched so many lives.

Until that night I hadn't realized how astounding an effect he had on the youngest amongst us.

We will forever be grateful for having lived during your era, and for the sacrifices you have made so that we could call ourselves free. For me personally, I shall be eternally grateful each time I look at my daughters, knowing that they enjoy the lives and rights and privileges they do because of you Madiba.

Hamba kahle Tata.

This was the photo my wife Shakera took outside Madiba's home on Saturday night.

e-Tolls And Other Biblical Plagues

                       

So e-tolls are finally a reality on Gauteng roads and the mass hysteria that greeted the initial announcement of governments latest plan to fleece taxpayers has fizzled down to little more than a poodle pissing on a giant oak tree.

All the barking and growling we did as a society and all the threats of civil disobedience seemed to fade into oblivion the day the tolling system went live. I followed with keen interest the social media platforms in the weeks leading up to the Go Live date, 03 December 2013.

People were commenting on online forums, writing in to newspapers, tweeting, blogging, calling in to radio stations, sticking protest stickers on their vehicles all in an effort to show their dissatisfaction at governments decision to go ahead with tolling against public opinion.

I imagined this being the start of our very own Egyptian Spring.

The kind of massive uprising that would galvanize a nation and make us more militant and unwavering in our steadfastness and belief in a cause.

Cue my surprise or lack thereof when we collectively, as a nation, held each other's hands and did what we have become so efficient at doing: we choked.

We choked like we do on the cricket field (and the haters can form a straight line to kiss my arse while singing the national anthem and calling me unpatriotic)

We choked like we do on the soccer field (haters can refer to my suggestion above or reply with stats and facts of our brilliant on-field performances in the beautiful game over the last 50 years)

We choked because we've become so complacent in all aspects of our lives.

Our idea of standing up for a cause and fighting the good fight is hitting 'Like' on a Facebook post that calls for activism, or adding our name to petitions, or tossing a few coins into a collection can.

A sleeping sloth hoping and waiting for a bug to land on its tongue has more determination and dedication than we do as a society.

The shoelace of the guy who applies Vaseline to an amateur lightweight boxer has more fight in it than we do.

The fly hovering around the anus of a donkey's carcass about to be ravaged by a vulture has more courage than we do.

I think you get the point.

"So what brave show of activism have you accomplished?" I hear you ask.

Well let's just say that I'm in the process of acquiring a few plasma-cutters and industrial angle grinders, some steel cables and hooks, a helicopter, and a rather large dustbin bag of good quality Durban weed.

Inbox me if you're keen on having a brilliant time while farting in the face of tyranny and state-sponsored corruption.

I guarantee that you'll wake up the next day being a hero with not the faintest idea why.

The Sooffah Comedy Couch Session

Friday nights comedy session reminded me once again why I love Stand Up so much. Our host for the evening, Nadiem Solomon, had asked me almost a year ago to join them at the Sooffah Comedy Couch sessions and I always put the idea on the back-burner.
Within two minutes of being up on stage, I realized that this kind of adrenalin rush should never be postponed. Like a visit to your proctologist, it's the kind of opportunity you should put right up there on the top of your list of things to do.

Speaking of lists and what belongs right up on top of them, the line-up of comedians that Nadiem puts together and the talent he nurtures is truly inspiring. I remember the first time I was catapulted onto the stage. I blogged about it here.
It didn't take long to learn that the bigger the headline act, the bigger the ego and the more pompous they became. It was a refreshing change to work with professionals who know and understand their history and purpose and really make a concerted effort to help new comedians.
Marc Lottering is one such professional.

I was privileged and honored to share a stage with him earlier this year and blogged about it here (at this point my damn links stopped working on Blogger!) http://www.thekalooreport.blogspot.com/2013/03/the-punchline-comedy-gig.html 

Then along came Nadiem Solomon and his comedy incubator, the Sooffah Comedy Couch.

The audience is amazingly hungry for laughs, and they clearly appreciate the young talent presented to them. The atmosphere is conducive to comedy with the air alive with excitement and a fantastic energy through the theatre.

At first I thought it was the extra hot Nandos I had snorted earlier, but the evenings buzz was a definite combination of audience excitement and comedians nerves.

What I really appreciated was the time Nadiem takes to warm the audience up before the comedians start their sets. You only really appreciate this when you're standing backstage waiting to come on and you already hear the crowd laughing and rolling in their seats.

Big crowds are nerve-wrecking.

Random audiences like I experienced at Parker's are honestly a lucky packet. You could get an entire group of suits out on a corporate evening on one night, followed by a bunch of teenagers out on a jol on the next. Your material needs to adapt to each group, and changing material on the night is a daunting task. Taking nothing away from Parker's, it really is a tough crowd.

What makes Sooffah Comedy Couch different is that the audience almost feels personal. Like you're performing in front of your friends or family, and you can tell that they WANT you to do well.

Here's wishing Nadiem and his amazing venture all the very best. I sense great talent maturing and developing at this venue.

Friday nights line-up included a smorgasbord of talent covering every genre and topic.

Lihle Lindzy Msimang

Jzuan Dreyer

Graham Shirley

Ian Campbell 

Thapelo King Flat Mametja

Myself and of course our host, Nadiem Solomon.

Lihle Lindzy Msimang is an absolute powerhouse and I reckon you will see her name in lights very soon! The 5 minutes with her backstage before my set was probably worth a years comedy workshops!

So here's to more laughs and awesome comedy and definitely more squeaky-bum moments just before getting up on stage. There is nothing that compares to that kind of raw adrenalin rush. Bungee jumping is fantastic, but there's no chance of bombing in front of a live audience when you're dangling from a rope in mid-air.

Eulogy To An Amazing Grandmother

My Gran aged 90 passed away this week, and after having given her eulogy I was asked to post it on the blog. No amount of words could sum up what she meant to so many people. I humbly present to you my feeble attempt.

                                      

Mavis.
Aunty Mavis.
Mummy.
Dadi.
Nani.
A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

I was asked to say a few words on behalf of the children, grandchildren and great grandchildren present here today, and as I sat down to pen my thoughts I was suddenly struck with the enormity of the task that lay before me.
How could I possibly encapsulate my grans 90 amazing and wonderful years into just a few short minutes?
How does one describe such a beautiful soul in just a few paragraphs?
My Grans passing presented a very unique situation to us as a family. It presented a situation which required wisdom, understanding, patience and respect from both sides of two different yet very similar religious beliefs.
As I look around this congregation here today, I can’t help but smile at the beauty and blessings of the last and final act of a unique woman. We are all here today, friends and companions included, as one family. Wiser. More understanding. More patient. And certainly more respectful of each other.

A mother to her children.
A grandmother to her grandchildren.
An aunt to her nieces and nephews.
A friend to her companions.
A healer to the sick.
A source of comfort to the destitute.
A humble servant of God.
You’ve been so many things to so many people, but to me and those you have left behind you will always be a shining example of a truly beautiful, admirable, compassionate and graceful human being.


One of my favourite memories of Nani happened during a family road trip to what was then known as the Eastern Transvaal more than 20 years ago. I’d packed a selection of music tapes for the long journey ahead, and at some point while I was driving I changed the tape. The music started and as the lyrics began, I heard this voice from the back seat singing along so beautifully that I lost track of my driving and got pulled over for speeding.
The words were Louis Armstrong’s “What A Wonderful World” but the voice was all Nani’s.

I see trees of green, red roses, too,
I see them bloom, for me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world.

To this day, trees of green, red roses in bloom, always remind me of what a wonderful world it was with you in it Nani.

It’s the little things that seem to stand out the most when I think about my gran —her beaming smile when you complimented her on her outfit. Her huge all-embracing hug that made you feel like she was enveloping your very soul and you never wanted to let go. The scent of her lingered about long after the hug had been forgotten. Her words of wisdom which seemed to flow like an eternal spring. Her always quoting just the right verse from the bible to remind you that no matter what your troubles or fears, this too shall pass and you always ended up leaving her with a sense of contentment, certainty and calmness. There are so many things that I can see and feel as if they had just happened.
I’m sure everyone here has memories much like mine. They are good memories, something we’ll always have to cherish. It isn’t often in our lives that we come across someone so special that that person stays with you forever. Nani was that kind of person.
The kind of love Nani felt for us was a love without condition. She just kept loving us, letting us know that she was there and if we ever needed her, we could count on her to listen, to comfort, to help.
She lived a simple life. It didn’t take much to make her happy—a phone call, an sms, a card, a visit or taking her to lunch at Ocean Basket. We were the most important people in the world to her. She lived to make our lives better and was proud of us.
To think that someone like her felt that way about us should make us all feel more than just a little good. We can never forget that there is a part of her in each of us, something that she gave to us and asked nothing for in return.
Money can be squandered and property ruined, but what we inherited from her cannot be damaged, destroyed or lost. Throughout our trials and tribulations, and I pray that there won’t be many, the greatest lesson I have learnt from Nani is quite simply to have faith. She woke up with the word of God on her breath, she spoke the word of God and lived a life observant of God every day, and went to bed with God as her last word.


There have been and will be times in our lives when situations arise where we’ll want so much to talk to her, be with her or ask her just what we should do. I hope that, when those times come, we can begin to look to each other and find that part of her that she gave to each of us.
Maybe we can learn to lean on each other and rely on each other the way we always knew that we could with her. Maybe then she won’t seem quite so far away.
So, for your wisdom, your humour, tenderness and compassion, your understanding, your patience and your love; thank you and I love you.

To my uncle’s Vaughn and Rashid and his wife Amina, my mom Rashida, my siblings Shamima, Aadilah and Faheem, to Aunty Ray and your entire amazing family, to everybody in attendance here today, I thank you for your guidance and your wisdom and pray that Nani’s vision of keeping us all together stays true.


Go in peace Nani.
Allah Hafez.