It started with a bang! Twas, ushered in with resolutions, promises and other laudable and lofty ideals. What has happened to all the notions that were whizzing through your mind in January? Have you recorded success, outright or modest as the case maybe? On the other hand have you also experienced what you’ve termed ‘failure’ this year?

Fine, your plans were turned inside out, upside down and some just plain old flopped. Despite all this 2010 must have something that recommends it? That friendship that had gone to the dogs was repaired. You got an unexpected promotion, or maybe the one you wanted. What about the bonuses of new relationships, knowledge, books, gifts given and received, joyful and sad experiences etc that you also lived through in the past 365 days?

2010 did not go as planned, in some aspects and in others it was totally brilliant! That’s the twist called life. We still have a few days left of this year to reflect and gather the fragments and see the lessons we actually learned in this period. Some maybe a distant memory, others are still quite vivid and the subliminal still simmering to be brought to the fore when the time is right. Whatever 2011 portends, you must remember that life is to be lived and as long as it rains, the sun will still shine and the cycle continues ad finitum!

What did we fix as a quick meal before the famous Indomie noodles came along? Can anyone recall? I’ve racked my brain and all but can’t seem to remember. What precisely were the children nuts about and you could also cook easily, quickly and knew would go down easily? It whetted the appetites and was eagerly anticipated? At least, the thought of nutrition etc was satisfied or could be overlooked for that occasion?

Indomie is practically the staple for kids all over the country. I also make bold as to say that some of us have become downright lazy when it comes to this topic. Acting comatose (probably from the stress of living and working in the great metropolis), we go into default mode when ‘suddenly’ the pantry’s resources for lunch or whatever’s on the timetable aren’t available. We don’t think too much or look too far either…just seize the nearest tablet of the noodles and pour its content into boiling water. Voila, a happy meal ready for devouring.

As parents, aunties and the like we ought to (if we don’t already have it in a mini version) have a new dating system i.e. B.I and A.I, before Indomie and after Indomie! As for the life of me I’m still scratching my head to find that easy to prepare meal that helped parents and provided the same solution through that all bothersome mealtime B.I!

This state of not remembering brings me to the classic case of buildings that ‘spring up over-night’. Can anyone also recall what was there before this new ode to modern architecture sprang up? They practically sprouted and you’re left floundering and racking your brains trying to picture what was (or wasn’t!) there just a few weeks back! If you haven’t been in a familiar neighbour recently, passing through you’ll find the landscape greatly altered but when you prod your memory of what was missing, often times it’s lost. Other times, you remember, vividly too but all too often it’s not a distant memory but rather a forgotten one!

We are intensely fixated in going about our daily affairs, so taking cognisance of new things is not our forte. Thus, when these new developments spring up we hardly take note, the one thing we do notice though is when something (or someone!) impinges on our space and threatens to curtail our freedom or change it in some way. We sit up and sense the danger or whatever perceived threat we deem it to be. In such instances we also tend to see other changes too, these may have been around for a while but gone unnoticed until the current circumstance.

Funny how life is, but it makes it all the more interesting. So what’s new in your neighbourhood? Better yet…what was there before Indomie and that new skyscraper?

There’s something about a man holding a baby. It could be a few days, months or even years. It’s an endearing picture…strength couched in gentleness. Again, maybe (in some) it’s that that air of helplessness or vulnerability you sense.

The tenderness you glimpse is captivating and leaves you sighing with the sheer pleasure it induces. I’m not quite sure that the affected parties would wax so lyrical. Probably not, knowing how stoic they tend to be where emotions are involved.

Although, some will let you know that the apprehension (bordering on terror), of dropping this fragile being is utmost on their mind. This of course prevents some (not all thankfully) from even making the attempt! Others say that when the initial anxiety wears off, that the mixed emotions is not what can be explained!

Because of the tiny nature of babies, some men refuse to hold them when they’re just a few weeks old and prefer that some months go by before they are so bold. This experience is as varied as the males that walk the earth. So you can imagine the scenario that is constantly played out worldwide whenever the stork comes calling. The experience of the labour room is something some avoid totally, whilst others embrace it and ensure their presence there for all their children.

Changing diapers (or nappies), feeding, bathing or helping with a new set of clothes is a duty some would rather pass them by. The stronger sex likes concrete things they understand and can explain; babies, toddlers and their ilk do not fall into this category! The female gender (by some) also falls into this genre but this is not the topic of discussion today. On the job experience is the only way they (mothers inclusive) learn the baby dialect and expertise of parenthood.

Women tame some chaps, but the fruit of their loins on the other hand enslaves them. The cord of love is a powerful thing, laying eyes on that child does something to the psyche. It’s a beautiful thing to behold the care the macho breed take when tending to their own…a sight for sore eyes each and every time.

It’s like a disease…to some it is one! Some are listless, physically harassed, at their lowest emotionally, total wrecks and the unfortunate end up hospitalised for that period. Some have been able to accurately foretell its advent and so can take counter-measures to alleviate it. Others, despite charting its course faithfully and all the necessary precautions taken are ill-prepared for the viciousness it brings with it. We also have those that don’t have any problem in a good month…some other months is like hell-on-earth!

The attendant drama that comes in its wake is nerve-wrecking and emotionally draining. The hormonal in-balance often turns lucid, calm beings into viragos that are unrecognisable by kith and kin alike. The ancient term for this condition sums it up best in the cases of the very chronic sufferers…the curse! The curse is dreaded, hated and totally undesirable by those that suffer its monthly visits. In this case, it’s a uniquely feminine condition and the men can only look on helpless and perplexed when their beloved suffer.

The red flow is part of the rhythm of the feminine cycle that must occur for normalcy. Its absence raises more furor than its presence does. A woman that’s deemed normal must have her monthly flux, else extensive and very intensive investigations to discover why it has not occurred, must (and will!) be promptly carried out. Its absence is cause of great concern to people interested in young ‘uns.

A blessing and a curse, the menstrual cycle is part and parcel of the essence of the woman and totally defines her. Without this core ingredient, she will be unable to undergo the flow of conception, fertilisation, incubation and birth that comprise the renewal of life.

With characteristic forbearance, the womenfolk have learned to embrace this sometimes unfriendly and very unpredictable companion with which they have been saddled. Each in her own way has a system by which she survives the days she’s allotted to pay host. As usual they carry it off with great aplomb and strength that comes with the role.

Wow! Fair

What’s the modus operandi for greeting? Is the onus on you to proffer the first salvo when you come into a place for the first time? What about when you’re in a place and others come there, do they proffer the first good day? Is it essential that the individual or people that greet first must be the younger, no matter the situation? I guess the first thing some of those reading this will tell me is that age before beauty; so the younger must greet the older. Hmmm, in times past maybe, but that rule is gradually being eroded and you’ll discover that some aspects of the social graces ‘usually’ left to the junior to initiate is fizzling out. The social graces have been vastly eroded and one can’t readily differentiate the left, from the right, from the centre too!

What happens when you’re older, when an elderly person enters a place where others have already congregated? Is it a taboo for them to initiate the first part of the social process? Does an older person utter the first salute? When the crowd is mostly younger, is the onus now on them to reverse the process and acknowledge the grey hair first? Must they? What are the dictates to be followed in these situations, especially when it’s not a case of familial community?

When you first make eye contact with a stranger must you utter the words that go with it? In some ways are you exempted from these rules because this person is unfamiliar? On the other hand if you happen to be a stranger seeking direction; you readily greet all and sundry in order to get the required assistance as fast as possible. Often times the response you elicit is wary, lukewarm and sometimes hostile at best, but you persevere because you must! Hint: you should also ensure that you ask more than two people so that the veracity of directions is confirmed, else you wander about aimlessly!

Is the reason that we’re social critters enough to perpetuate this current scheme of things? Must we exchange ‘pleasantries’? Despite the fact that one overlooks the modalities that age plays in our society and you issue the salute first, what happens when the grunt you receive for your efforts is not enough? Why do some people feel that a grunt suffices? Others believe that a stare without any other thing accompanying it can be interpreted as a response and that it communicates the same message. Not everybody is savvy in non-verbal communication (still studying this science myself!) and a stare or grunt could be termed as rude.

Pleasantries were thus named to make encounters with strangers (and the more familiar too) not as onerous as it might have been. They may also ensure that these meetings are also turned into opportunities with enormous prospects for the future. The ramifications of these exchanges in such chance encounters (often overlooked) have sealed opinions, attitudes and also modified behaviour that have ripple effects in the foreseeable and unforeseeable future.

A cheery good day goes some way in making life less dull, for those giving it and of course those on the receiving end. Although we are sometimes at sea with regards to the rules that actually govern this field, one thing is clear, courtesy and politeness in every situation certainly trumps rudeness and unpleasantness, anytime, any day no matter the age involved!