“No one can hurt me without my permission” Mahatma Gandhi.
I found my dog as a puppy (or I should say he found me) on the back streets of Panjim, India, when he crawled out of the jungle. He’d been run over by a motorbike, was starving and flea infested and yet somehow crawled towards me as I was sat having a cigarette. After a trip to the vet where he was jabbed and treated for everything he was stoked up on boiled eggs for a few weeks and has spent the last eight years being loved to bits. The only fly in his ointment was having to fly from India to UK and then do his ‘porridge in the pen’ (quarantine) for six months but somehow we got through it and here we are.
People say he’s a lucky fella. Maybe. But then I’m blessed.
A couple of days ago I suggested Tony Blair should keep his nose out of the Labour leadership election and I stand by that; nothing that man has to say is anything I want to hear.
Having said that, and just to be clear, please don’t run away with the idea that I’m pro-Tory or in anyway a Conservative. Heavens one look at David Cameron and I become instantly nauseous; and the very suggestion that an Englishman such as me is a European is something I find nothing short of offensive.
I’ve never believed in people ramming their politics, religions, opinions and views down other peoples throats; most of my life has been spent empowering people to speak up for themselves or advocating truthfully on their behalf.
Diversifying slightly (while trying to stay on track here) I remember living in India and being infuriated by television advertisements for skin whitening cream that lied blatantly to women since there is no such thing. Many Indian women are led to believe their career and marriage prospects are much enhanced if their complexion is fairer. There’s something about slimy politics that reminds me of advertisements on Indian television advertisements.
Singing my song ‘Through the eyes of a child’ with the some of the fabulous children who raised £310 for disadvantaged children in India on behalf of our charity Xanders Children’s Fund. You can listen to the song here on my website.
To learn more about Xanders Children’s Fund and our work in India please visit our newly designed website (freshened up by our very own Miss Katy Holden, school teacher). You can find our website at:
I bought this little diamond when I moved to India in 2007 because I loved the way the sides flashed blue when I got a text and how easily my hand wrapped around it. For the past year or so I had loaned it to my close friend Francis who, to my delight, returned it to me this weekend and I quickly moved back in. I’m told these phones are no longer available to buy very easily and with less being more these days they have begun achieving cult status.
Like most people I do have an all-singing all-dancing phone on a contract and said contract is due for renewal soon; whether I renew it or not though is another question. But if phone companies are reading this they’ll do well to consider how cool past designs were before they all went mad sticking every conceivable app into a handset. If more people begin realising how much more relaxing life is when they are not constantly battered throughout the day by trivia that they feel the need to check out on the spot it may well be the beginning of the end for the all-singing all-dancing gadgets of the day.