Putting 'Christ' back into Christmas with cayons!

Let's bring 'Christ' back into Christmas, the preacher said. This was almost a month ago, just before I left for an end-of-the-year break to Gujarat. Almost a month later, isn't it a little too late to be thinking about Christmas?

Sometimes, all it takes is an envelope for one to travel back in time. In this case, it was an envelope packed with Christmas Cards, each lovingly made by hand and adorned with the choicest blessings. As always, the cards were made by two very sweet girls, Vera and Jennifer, whom I have the good fortune of being acquainted with. In truth, we sponsor the education of these girls, who are brimming on the edge of womanhood, and willl soon leave the cloistered environs of the Church to find their way in life. But, as usual, that's getting ahead of the story.

A few years ago, Nalini and I wanted to help educate a girl child who had no one in the world. When we were asked if we would educate two girls who had no father, we did not think twice. Over the last two or three years, Vera, Jenneifer and their mother have become a part of our ecosystem. I use the word liberally, as they are neither friends in the typical sense, and nor are they family. Neither have I ever introduced them to my friends or family - or frankly, even spoken about them to friends or family. Not because I am embarassed to do so, but I think that they would die of embarassement if I did not break them into my world, very, very gently.

So what is it that makes this shy, reticent trio, so special to us? In one word - Love. I guess that at some point, it does have to do with the material element of being supported by us. But on the other hand, this trio of Christmas cards, received well after New Year, has a message of its own. The message is simple - that which a crayon and love can create, no store in the world can match. You cannot put a price on the smile behind the creator of these cards. You cannot stick a bar code tag on the back of these cards, as they are priceless. And with every passing year, my collection of Vera and Jennifer's creations occupies an increasing amount of space on my soft board.

I have not brought these young ladies out of the closet. Their trio of cards has. It would be very cynical of me to simply call them up and say 'Thank You' , which I shall do anyway. I wanted to share the simple innocence of these young girls who need no money to say 'Merry Christmas' or 'Thank You'. All they need is a piece of paper, a box of crayons and lots of love.

As a writer, I am conditioned to spotting errors. Theirs, I ovelook with a smile, thinking to myself...
"Forgive them, for they know not how they write. But they do know WHAT they convey."

If there is a single cynic out there reading this, I would like you to meet Vera and Jennifer someday. One day, when they are ready to be exposed to our world. That day, their smiles and coyness will smash your cynicsm to smithereens. That will be the day you realise what Christmas is all about.

Thank You, Vera and Jennifer, for making every day seem like Christmas Day for Nalini and me.
Thank You for making it feel like 'Christ'mas, all year long.

Cyrus Dadachanji aka gypsycy

P.S. I may never post their pictures, but their love shines through these cards...

Bikers are people too!!!

I have a family, a wife, a job and a a motorcycle. I'm an average every day guy who loves to ride, when I can. But the moment I get together with a bunch of like minded individuals, we're 'BIKERS'. It's as though a label has been pasted across each and every single one of us.

Get a dozen of us together and we're suddenly seen as a gang that's capable of doing just about anything. People think that we are a law unto ourselves. Pedestrians watch us in awe. People give us way in a supermarket aisle if we're booted, armoured ( for safety) and carry helmets. Cops watch us with suspicion and question us on highways. Families at restaurants mutter in hushed tones - even when there are women and children who ride with us. Many wish they could hop onto a bike and experience the freedom that we do - but then, what will people say?!!

I'm proud that I belong to a group of bikers who are like me. Sensible (ha ha!). Responsible. Caring. And despite the tattoos and long hair that some of them sport, are thorough gentlemen on the road. Moreover, over the year, we hope to be gentlemen ( that includes the ladies) off the road too. We made a start with a Christmas Party of underprivileged kids. We participated in a Safety ride. We hope to bring joy into the lives of many less fortunate than us in the year ahead.

So, this poem (which captured my attention) goes out to all my biking friends, their families and every person who cringes when they see a group of bikers on the road or in a supermarket or a restaurant. It is also a silent prayer for the souls of the bikers who I have known who have passed on - and a fervent hope that this does not happen to anyone I know, ever!

Ride to live, Live to ride. But whatever you do, ride safe, because you are on two wheels less than the rest of the world!

Amen

Cyrus Dadachanji aka Gypsycy

"I'm Just a Biker"

Author: Unknown

I saw you hug your purse closer to you in the grocery store line.

But, you didn't see me put an extra $10.00 in the collection plate last Sunday.

I saw you pull your child closer when we passed each other on the sidewalk.

But, you didn't see me playing Santa at the local mall.

I saw you change your mind about going into the restaurant.

But, you didn't see me attending a meeting to raise more money for the hurricane relief.

I saw you roll up your window and shake your head when I drove by.

But, you didn't see me, driving behind you when you flicked your cigarette butt out the car window.

I saw you frown at me when I smiled at your children.

But, you didn't see me, when I took time off from work to run toys to the homeless.

I saw you stare at my long hair.

But, you didn't see me and my friends cut ten inches off for Locks of Love.

I saw you roll you eyes at our leather coats and gloves.

But, you didn't see me and my brothers donate our old coats and gloves to those that had none.

I saw you look in fright at my tattoos.

But, you didn't see me cry as my children were born and having their name tattooed on my skin and in my heart.

I saw you change lanes while rushing off to go somewhere.

But, you didn't see me going home to be with my family.

I saw you complain about how loud and noisy our bikes can be.

But, you didn't see me, when you were changing the CD and drifted into my lane.

I saw you yelling at your kids in the car.

But, you didn't see me pat my child's hands knowing he was safe behind me.

I saw you reading the newspaper or map as you drove down the road.

But, you didn't see me squeeze my wife's leg when she told me to take the next turn.

I saw you race down the road in the rain.

But, you didn't see me get soaked to the skin so my son could have the car to go on his date.

I saw you run the yellow light just to save a few minutes of time.

But, you didn't see me trying to turn right.

I saw you cut me off because you needed to be in he lane I was in.

But, you didn't see me leave the road.

I saw you waiting impatiently for my friends to pass.

But, you didn't see me. I wasn't there!

I saw you go home to your family.

But, you didn't see me, because, I died that day you cut me off.

I was just a biker and a person with friends and a family.

But, you didn't see me.

my first ever blog after a lifetime of writing!

It feels really weird and exciting at the same time. I've made a career out of writing everything from corporate communication to travel stories. This blog has been a long time coming. And since I have taken so long to get it kick started, the anticipation that it should prove worthwhile to those who read it, is immense.

Mygypsytales is my act of discipline towards chronicling my travels and sharing them with the world at large. Over the last few years, a combination of work pressures, lethargy and who knows what has ensured that I have not been as prolific as I once was. I do hope that this blog will put an end to that.

So, the next time I go rambling somewhere, I hope to share my thoughts and experiences on a day - to -day basis, fresh of the boat, as they say.

I have another admission. I have never been one of those snap - shoot - upload kind of people. But I hope that the sheer presence of this blog, and hopefully, a handful or more of people who will visit it, will propel me in that direction. So, you can hope to find a few juicy pics uploaded WHILE I travel... and not weeks later, as the case usually is.

This blog means that I now have no excuse not to write more frequently. And while most of the stories will be about travel, you can expect a few asides on life in general too.

Here's to many more tales from this gypsy. Hope that you enjoy them and send bouquets and sponge brickbats flying my way, as the need arises.

Cheers

Cyrus