Diwali: A Celebration of Light, Choices, and Timeless Tradition

Each year, as Diwali inches closer, there’s a shift—a quiet crackle in the air, an almost inaudible hum that fills homes and hearts. Windows are flung open to welcome the coolness of October, and every corner of the house seems to throb with a secret it’s keeping, waiting to be alive again, just for a little while.

In the bazaar, marigolds tumble from baskets in bright, extravagant heaps, orange and yellow petals spilling out like little explosions of joy. There’s the sharp, sweet smell of sugar and incense, of things old and things yet to be. Strings of lights glint in the hands of shopkeepers, each light a small promise waiting to be taken home, to cast its glow over rooms that, for a few shimmering days, might feel a little less ordinary.

Inside, families are drawn into the soft, familiar rituals that make Diwali what it is, what it always was. Mitti ke diye—humble clay lamps—are lined up with a care and reverence that only comes with rituals that know themselves. Diyas waiting like tiny soldiers, knowing that by dusk, each will be lit, each will play its part in the night’s choreography. Passed down from hand to hand, dadi to maa to beta, these rituals are threads that stitch generations together, each diya a quiet reminder of the past, each diya a whispered blessing for what’s to come.

In the kitchen—the thick, bustling heart of Diwali—laughter mingles with old, worn-out stories and the warm smell of ghee and elaichi. Recipes that are as old as time itself, shaped in hands that remember and hands that are learning. Some mithai from the halwai down the road, some made at home, each sweet carrying the taste of a memory that has lingered, sticky, on the edges of childhood. Children light phuljhadis, tiny sparklers that hiss and spit light, and their laughter rises into the night, echoing off walls, spilling out into the streets, filling the night with a joy that can’t be held back.

As the sun dips, the world begins to light up, diya by diya, each small flame spilling out onto doorsteps, casting a soft, golden glow that touches every house, linking one home to the next. Friends and family gather, not for grand things but for small, forgotten things. For warmth, for laughter, for moments that slip by too easily, for stories that only come alive in Diwali’s gentle glow. Each diya, each smile, a thread that ties them back to something fragile and unbreakable—a sense of belonging, a sense of home.

In a world that rushes forward every day, Diwali comes like a breath. An invitation to stop, to breathe, to listen to the laughter, the closeness, the warmth of people who stay close even when the world spins too fast. Diwali asks us to pause, to let go of the hurry, to be here, diya by diya, in the soft, forgiving light.

In every diya we light, we find ourselves—a reminder that the light we seek is the light we create, and in it lies the power to come home to ourselves.

|| Shubh Deepawali ||

Lights, Lens, Action!

From subtly influencing to convincingly coercing me to explore a whole new dimension of myself,  these two are chiefly responsible for getting me to awaken to the world of documentary film-making. And boy, what an incredible experience it has turned out to be!

 Conducting lectures is one thing, but in the process becoming a student yourself over workshops, real-time dialogue and immersive reflection over some amazing (world) documentary films with students and some of the leading documentary film-makers from across the world, is quite something else altogether. 

The fact that the stage for this act was set in picturesque #Naukuchital, nestled in the foothills of the Himalayas in Kumaon, made it even more surreal. 

Film-making is truely a wonderfully liberating experience - a one that changes how you view and experience yourself within and, therefore the world around you.

And now, I go back home in ways I know I’ll never quite be the same again.

Aatma Namaste!

Mentor Me!

“Ajay is a talented boy, but padhaai mein uska bilkul dhyaan nahi hain. He enjoys playing football and wants to be a footballer. But he needs to get through school first and finish his basic education.” And with these words began my journey as Ajay’s mentor. It’s been ten months now since then and Ajay and I have now become friends who meet every weekend discussing a gamut of interest areas ranging from Messi to the milky-way.

A reserved teen, Ajay, when I first met him through Mentor-Me India’s (MMI) mentoring initiative, was difficult to communicate with and, wary of my efforts in trying to reach out to him. Communication, I was told, was going to be one of the big challenges I would encounter in my mentoring journey with him. Add to that the swinging temperaments of a moody 16 year old whose view point of the world swayed along a callibrated scale that ranged from consuming passion to abject indifference, with skepticism playing the balancing act across the two extremities!

I knew it was going to be an uphill task when I signed-up with MMI; and the demand on my time is not what I’m referring to. Nothing quite prepares you in your journey as a mentor, as much as the experience of going through that journey itself. You may prepare all you want but make peace you will eventually with the fact that you’ll never quite be prepared. And so much as I would strategise and plan activities to break ice and befriend my mentee Ajay, he’d seem one-up on me, everytime, in derailing all of those with an agenda that’d convince me he was out to teach me a thing or two about dealing with ambiguity and, convince me that there was no such thing as coming planned for our encounters. That learning still continues!

I am now wiser in knowing that relationships – of this kind or any other for that matter – are organic. You could wish for them to be this way or the other and plan accordingly; fact is no amount of wishing and planning will get you anywhere. You’ve got to be at it and in it to experience what it has to offer and then take guided calls to manoeuvre it in the interest of the involved stakeholders. And nothing teaches you that better than an experience like this (marriage of-course is the other!)
 
So while I now mentally go about figuring how to make my interactions with Ajay a lot more engaging through fun and learning, I have also learnt how to curate plans on the go when he chooses to take the lead in structuring how he’d like to spend the session. It makes me happy to see him do this because to my mind, this is proof of the needle having moved on the behavioural compass along the axis of time. Ajay today is seemingly more confident and communicative than he was ten months ago. While he still wants to be a footballer, he now also realises that he likes studying (he’s been a first class student even with all of that last minute studying) and that a good academic foundation besides the quality of his game, will help him bag the necessary scholarships for a career as a sportsman.

And while I’d like to believe I’ve had some role to play in this transformational journey of his through our regular mentoring interactions over the year , I believe he is mentoring me more that I could have imagined mentoring him through the process. He continues to teach me an invaluable lesson – all children and youth deserve to be treated as individuals in their own right with unique identities of their own. I’m humbly learning that you may not agree with all of their opinions or world views but listen to them you must, show them respect, you must! Doing this has helped catalyse the buy-in process and built my credibility with Ajay. Importantly it has taught me, as much as it has him, to value and work on real-time feedback, besides promoting healthy debate for acceptance and exchange of divergent ideas. Nothing facilitates tolerance and builds healthy respect between individuals as much as this exposure.

Experiences such as these have made me realise while we all have our own journeys to make, no two journeys are ever, if at all, the same. And so there can never really be one best approach to addressing a situation because best in itself is relative.

Thank you MMI for reinforcing this learning through the opportunity you’ve provided!

Freedom...

As we ready ourselves to celebrate the 65th year of Indian independence and freedom from the British, the air is rife, yet again as it is every year around this time, with a strong patriotic fervor and a keen sense of pride in all things Indian.

It is an overwhelming feeling, no doubt, in every sense of the term, for each one of us – as Indians - to bask in the pride of our accomplishments as a nation since we began our tryst with destiny back in that August of 1947. But then again, after all the routine, humdrum celebrations and stirring speeches that accompany every I-Day are over and done with for the year, the ensuing silence on the true essence of ‘freedom’ can be deafening; Deafening - for want of action and for want of will (social and political) to work towards being truly free of the ills that plague us as a nation in the form of corruption, widespread economic disparity and superstition.

People use the words, "free" and “freedom” to mean many things. To me, mere independence is not freedom. Many people in the world are independent but few are truly free. True freedom is a state of mind that has no place for fear of anything. Only when the mind is free can one truly observe and appreciate life as it is meant to be, and live life as it should be - from moment to moment. It comes to one when one understands the interplay and impact of the myriad aspects of one’s environment; Environment such as social, religious, political and a host of other cultural mind-sets that shape and influence the being.

People submit to such influences when they are inwardly frightened. Feelings of fright originate from fear of the unknown and often act as shackles inhibiting an individual’s progress to freedom. A free mind is an unshackled mind; it is a mind that is aware and is constantly evolving towards a more enriched quality of life. I believe that we will experience true freedom when the focus of the common Indian man’s struggle shifts from ‘making ends meet’ to bringing more meaning into his life. It would mean feeling safe and secure in his country. Freedom for him will be the promise to live his life in dignity and hope…hope for a bigger and better tomorrow.

However, freedom should not be mistaken to mean a license to uninhibited living, but the wisdom to choose what is right for oneself and accepting complete responsibility for those choices. It naturally comes at a price. It cost us a soldier a day back then. Today it costs us the price of refusing to be afraid and refusing to be tricked out of our rights. And maybe, that’s the reason why most of us dread it, because to be able to enjoy freedom, we must also feel free to say “no”, be willing to respect another’s claim to it, unafraid that it could be contrary to our very own.

It is being able to have a voice and to let it be heard. But then again, are we listening?

“To be ruled by your own people may be seen as quite okay

But if careful is what you have to be with the words you say

And play to the galleries is what you do in their scripted way

Then you’re not as free a person as they make you feel

And your idea of freedom to me for sure does not appeal!”

Once Obama'time in Bombay...

South Bombay has never looked as spruced up and beautifully botoxed as it does right now. Like a readying bride awaiting her grom's arrival, the south of the city has been ornamentally decked with freshly relaid roads, fashionable street furniture, bright well-lit promenades, side walks, groomed to display pruned and manicured bylanes, public gardens,  lawns and, richly draped in green hues across the wide open brown spaces in keeping with the prevailing fashionable flavour of environmental chutzpah and chic!

The groom's arrived. Obama's here! Band, baaja, baraat et al. Aurr mehmaan-nawaazi ka kya kehna...uff, it'd put any blue blooded Punjabi shaadi to shame! Dekho to jaano paaji. This is the land of 'Atithi Devo Bhavo' after all!

All it takes is one visit from the President of the United States to jumpstart our bureaucracy, administration and babudom into the thick of electrifying action. Action, with startling results and, in minimal turn around times, mind you! It's so unbelievable, that I'm still lost figuring whether I'm more surprised by the quantum of work that got done over the past month in the run up to the Prez's arrival or,  impressed by the sheer outcome of the results achieved. Either ways, the one fact that coherently emerges from all of this 'abracadabra' of turntail transformation  - and we've known this all along now - is, that we definitely have the resources to execute action in our quest for desired results. What we lack is the willingness and the discipline to sustain the needed momentum in the face of routine.

And so, while many may crib about the inconveniences that the city's been put up to due to the US Prez's visit, seen as ill-timed given that it coincides with Diwali, one of India's biggest festivals, thereby putting paid to may a festive celebration in the city, I silently smile...watching my city, looking lovelier by the minute, blush with pride as she's painstakingly bedecked in bridal finery awaiting her big moment in time.

The groom's arrived. Obama's here...band, baaja, baraat et al! May his tribe increase!

Roy-ter Speak

Quite frankly, I'm amused and a tad beleaguered at the recent press coverage and political outcry over Arundhati's Roy's remarks on Kashmir. 'Seditious' and 'anti Indian' howled the media and the political class. How smugly self-serving and convenient indeed!

While, Roy may have overstated her case in suggesting that India is an occupying power that imposes its rule on Kashmir through torture, brutality and rape, she can't be labelled a traitor by any far measure. Her concern in connection with the state resorting to violence to kill violence, at the cost of violating fundamental rights and basic human dignity in the valley, is valid and, holds good in India as it would in any other democracy across th globe. Roy may have chosen strong words, in keeping with her characteristic style, but worrying about her remarks having serious consequences on the socio-political fabric of Indian society, is taking it too far.

A regional right wing political party head, known to have moulded his career in politics based on incitingly fiery speeches, even today continues to unabashedly provoke his partymen to not just take the law into their hands, but more often than not define the law for the land and forcibly play it out too. His speeches, partisan for the most part, are hard hitting, below the belt and slanderously libellous against individuals and religious minorities to say the least.  Indoctrinated by an ideology whose time has long since past, the party head has constantly encouraged the politics of caste and religious genocide, only to gain political mileage and votes.

All this is very 'Indian' by no means seditious I suppose, since at no point in time then or now have I once heard the media or political class even blinker about curtailing the right to this individual's right to freedom of speech. Strange no? If a curtailment, as is being mandated against Roy by these very folks, was ever warranted, it would first have to be mandated against this man. There is strong justification and documented evidence for it too. But no! Nothing of the sort has ever happened this far and the man continues to roar as and when it pleases him. It happens all the time, where politics is concerned, especially that of caste. So why now then, when there is absolutely no reason to believe that Roy's statements will have any such larger consequences, or fuel public outrage are these folks crying hoarse about curtailing the right to an individual's freedom of speech? Beats me, really. A case of different strokes for different folks, I'm guessing or, pure double standards, if you please.

To quote Vir Sanghvi, from his though provoking Op-Ed, in the Hindustan Times, last Sunday: while the principal of freedom of expression of speech can be curtailed on grounds of sedition, the principal of freedom of expresssion is far more important than any individual. Such curtailment should only be restricted to those times when there is real threat to the unity and integrity of the country. Point to be noted Tiger.

BOMBay!

First there was the deluge which caused not just the city to flood, but also the BMCs glib assurances of an efficient monsoon disaster management system; then came the Shiv Sena riots that held the city to a ransom – all over a defaced statue. And just as the Mumbaiite heaved a sigh in relief, believing that the worst was over, he was rudely jolted to witness that it had only all just begun!

The terror train attacks on 7/11 are a shocking reminder of just how easy a target we are, as a city, to the self-professed prophets of doom, as these zealots unleash a systemic destruction into the lives of hapless innocents; and all of this in their madness to seek vindication for a cause, the achieving of which they deem any approach fiendishly and mercilessly just!

The attacks have definitely taken a toll on the lives of the people of this beautiful city, but not so much as a even a dent has been caused on the mettle of its inherent spirit!

Much as I am aware that enough ink and soundbytes have been spent in saluting the nature of this famed resilience of the Megapolis, and equal amounts of the same in askance of cutting down the hype around this halo, I am tempted to offer my own take on the subject:

I believe that clichéd and beaten to the bone as all these acclamations sound, somewhere in them these clichés bind and extorts only the best in this city. Because in these, people find for themselves an identity; an identity they want to identify with and are therefore willing to go lengths to live it. It gives them hope and brings them an unparalleled sense of pride and belonging to this city which continues to give them emotional, economic and social support. A sort of self-fulfilling prophesy, if you please.

…agreed that more often than not, the ‘down-but-not-out’ and the resilient streak of the people of Mumbai stem more from a lack of available economic options to the common man than out of sheer love for the ideology it, but paradoxically then again, isn’t this trait in itself quintessentially representative of the spirit of Mumbai? That of the arrogant ability to take-on life as it comes by making the most of what is presently available, or for that matter, the ability of propelling oneself into magnetic lure of undertaking high risks today for big ticket returns of tomorrow. Quite surprisingly, and the history of this city has stood testimony to this fact, the risks more often than not handsomely pay off!!!

Eulogies like ‘The city of dreams’ and ‘Bindaaz Bambaiyya’, after all, weren’t coined in for nothing.

All these, however, hold no excuse, for the powers that run this city and the country at large, to hold back from their responsibilities in providing this city the infrastructure and security it truly deserves. After all aren’t we the highest tax-paying city in this country?

Saluting the spirit of Mumbai and singing paeans of the steely courage displayed by Mumbaiites is all fine, but it’s time the officials got their act in order and gave this city its (over)due. We’re fortunate than most other cities, in this country, to have a socially conscientious and alert citizenry that more than willingly does all to keep this city going, but let’s not push it. There is only so much one can do as a city in the absence of support patronage and funding from the state.

In the absence of a central leadership and an effective local disaster management plan, this city uncomfortably sits atop a fuming terror volcano that waits to erupt and consume everyone. Now if only the State and the Centre took time out from planning myriad ways of widening the tax base, shutting down dance bars and building a consensus over reservations, to listen and act proactively…

Meanwhile, here is a very thought provoking email from one of the Editors in TOI...well worth a pondersome read...


Dear all,

Today's Mid-Day edit (July 8th 2006) begins by saying that you don't need to be a rocket scientist to understand that the chain of events starting from the Bhiwandi riots to the desecration of Meenatai's statue and what happened as an aftermath, to the serial blasts on the trains yesterday, means somebody somewhere wants Mumbaikar's to spill out on the streets and grab each other by the throats.

Incidentally, these same somebody-- the faceless outcasts that they still are-- have at least succeeded in one part of their plan. Mumbaikars have actually spilled out on to the streets.

The catch here is that they have failed to succeed in the second and most important part of their plan: that of getting Mumbaikars to grab each other by the throats. Mumbaikars spilled onto the streets-- in a collective show of the middle finger to those who proposed otherwise.

I know very well that you are already aware of how Mumbai stormed onto the streets to help the injured, the stranded and soothe the injuries that were still gaping along its life line.
There were capsules and capsules of streaming video that showed them offering water and refreshments to people stranded on SV Road and the Eastern and Western Express Highways.

There were captures of students of Sydenham and SNDT college, who camped at Churchgate station with the sole purpose of offering a bed to those stranded at the starting node of the life line.

And there was also that memorable grab of people standing patiently in front of KEM Hospital-- all in a serpentine queue, to donate blood. A result of which has been a no-shortage syndrome, when it comes to blood at all the hospitals where the injured are being treated or are recuperating.

But this is not about all that. And yet, it is about all that and more. It is about the sights I saw and the people I met with, while travelling along the Western Express Highway to Kandivali yesterday, between 7 in the evening and one in the morning.

It is about that little kid and his grandfather near Dadar, who, perhaps in the absence of anybody else in the household, took to the streets with bottles of water and packets of biscuits to contribute in whatever way possible in managing the crisis. "Uncle, you must be thirsty," the kid told me while offering the bottle. A parched me drank gratefully. And I saw in those eyes no fear. So what did those terrorists think while planting the bomb? That was at least the silent way of making one statement-- "Terror, my foot.!"

It is also about those housewives in front of a housing society near Santa Cruz, who were standing with pots of piping tea, water and God only knows what else to help those passing by. And they had this board beside them which read "Beyond Borivli, Can Stay'. I was lucky to get a cab, but there were people who were trying to make it on foot. And they needed succor. Rest. Shelter. It was raining.

It is about the autorickshaw driver, who finally reached me home in the interiors of Kandivali at 1 in the morning. And refused to take the night fare, despite being legally empowered to charge extra. "Nehi saab, aaj ki baat alag hai. Aap thik thak ghar pohuj gaye, yeh hi kafi hai," he bade me goodbye at my doorstep.

It is also about the dabbawala who provides me with my dinner everyday. His shop is near the Borivli station, where there was one of the biggest blasts at 6:34 in the evening. Yet, at one o clock in the morning, the dabba was there waiting at my doorstp to be picked up. It didn't need a note. The piping hot food at such an unearthly hour said it all.

The terrorists succeeded in synchronising a series of blasts that stopped the Mumbai lifeline for somewhere around seven hours. That was all that they achieved on 7/11. The trains were back on track by 1:30 in the morning and they plied all through the night. I wonder if the masterminds will consider this before planning their next attack. I would urge them to-- if this reaches any one of them-- to rethink. After all, what did a year of planning, six months of smuggling dangerous explosives, extensive netwroking and crores achieve at the end-- arond 200 lives and just seven hours of disruption? Bas! I won't budge for that. In the deal they united more than they dreamt to rip apart.

And by the way, I did not spot any member of the celebrated Readers' Digest survey team yesterday on the roads. Or perhaps they were there-- reconsidering their statement.

Deputy Editor-Medianet,

Times of India, Mumbai.


Celebrating the Spirit of Mumbai...Proud to be a Mumbaiite!
-- Sudip Ghosh

TalibArmageddon!

I am simply enraged at the slaying in so mercilessly a manner of Suryanarayanan, the 41 year old telecom engineer from Hyderabad, by the Taliban in Afghanistan.

Assuming for once – by the largest stretch of imagination – that the Taliban are fighting a just cause in the name of Jehad, I’d like to really ask of them if they really believed that their actions would lead them up the path to a world order they’d be in control of. A dream they possibly envision for the future.

Frightfully, at times, I think that might not br too far-fetched after all! And here's why.

Now, we all know that 9/11 should never really have happened and lent our hearts out to those thousands of innocents who lost their lives in the worst act of terrorism that this world has ever seen. However we also strongly condemned the reckless bombing of Afghanistan by the US in a reaction which the world saw as predominantly an impulsive US led struggle for vindication, the bloody outcome of which was there for all to see. There simply was no justification in the adage’ an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,’ cried angry protesters across the globe; human life mattered over all else irrespective of the divisive nature of geo-politics at play by the powers-that-were. And I quite agreed!

What worries me now is this – that if these terror attacks are to continue and intensify in their brutality as in the case of Muthuppan and now Suryanarayana then soon, very soon, the numbers in this camp will see a downward spiral, indicative of the switch in stand of these pro-life contenders.

Patience, they would claim can only be tested this much. Laws will then be re-written to ensure justice at any cost – even if that meant at the price of hapless innocent victims. And sooner than later we would haplessly witness an upsurge in extremist reactions from the masses that would increasingly be difficult to contain; each believing that he had to fight a jehad of his own by rationalizing that if they came for his neighbour today, tomorrow they would very well come for him. After all better safe than sorry!

America today is already fuelled by this ideology; Iraq and now more recently Iran being case in point. The plot seems to only thicken leading to a point of no return…the question being – would we all then not be guilty of embracing the very jehadi culture to ratify our pursuit for justice in a show of strength and one-upmanship???

Either which way then the jehadi dream stands ground for being realized, this way or that!

...morbid thinking...well, maybe. But valid thoughts all the same! Think about it...

Bollywood calling...

‘Beauty with a purpose,’ we’ve all heard that one before; and Bollywood - that’s how purported it would ever get. But ‘Celebrity with a purpose,’ now that’s a first. And Mama Mia what a purpose this one has turned out to be! One that has the government and the nation sit up and take notice overnight.

It’s been almost close to a decade now that the Narmada Bachao Aandolan (NBA) has been in existence. Countless peaceful protests, rallies and fasts later the issue continued to course its way through a rocky terrain of apathy and hopelessness. Like a mannequin in a window display prompting customers to come and buy, the issue was seen in every possible light by all but heard by none. There simply was just no buy-in from the government.

Tirelessly and with unflinching dedication team Medha Patkar put up a tough fight in realizing their cause – that of rehabilitation of the project affected farmers due to the increased height of the dam. And YET all their pleas fell on deaf ears and their efforts, like pollen, scattered by the wind of inaction onto unyielding barren land.

And then one day, just when about almost everybody had begun to accept the status-quo on the issues that were, something changed.

The issue was the same, but this time around there had been an addition to the numbers of those that had until now supported it vociferously. Support came from entirely unexpected quarters - a Bollywood superstar! Needless to say, things haven’t quite been the same again with the NBA.

With Aamir Khan lending his name to the NBA, the issue has now suddenly become the cynosure of national attention. Not surprisingly it has found its way back to making headlines on page one of the national dailies.

To say that Aamir has brought back the spotlight squarely on brass-tacks of the issue, would be to undermine the efforts of Medha Patkar. Medha Patkar is an essential and inseparable part of the NBA. A fine example she is of character and purpose in relentlessly pursuing this cause. But the fact remains that star-power outshines the brilliance of character and the steadfastness of purpose radiated by socially-conscious individuals who’re out to make a difference. In deciding to throw his lot-in with those championing the NBA struggle, Aamir has unequivocally pledged to seek answers from the powers that be, in his right as a citizen of India first and a star only later. Eulogized as a well-read ‘thinking-actor,’ candid yet media shy and doggedly possessive about his personal life, he has steered clear of controversies even given his forthright manner of speech; traits that give him instantaneous credibility and buy-in, especially whilst espousing the NBA cause.

Much as I believe that this is no cheap publicity generating gimmick (as some have critiquingly insinuated) on Aamir’s part – an actor of his caliber and showing doesn’t need to stoop to such levels, it’s a telling observation however, that in today’s times it’s not about the issue, rather it’s about who is espousing it that could make all the difference. And that is why an actor of the status of Aamir Khan lending his name to the NBA means so much to those campaigning for it. The fame, public affection and recognition afforded to these personalities make each of them powerful beyond reason in ways even they themselves can ever fathom. And it is this power that speaks when the personality behind it decides to champion a cause; a power with a voice so powerful that one cannot but sit alert and take note of what is being said as is now happening with the NBA and as did happen with the passage of the 1993 ‘Oprah Bill’ into law on the National Child Protection Act, initiated by Oprah Winfrey.

What matters here is not just the final outcome but also the decisions that led to it, for it is these that would eventually ratify its unanimous acceptance or widespread rejection.

…which brings me to state that each of us have the power to make a difference but what differentiates us is the way we echo that power. With celebrities, it’s a trifle more easy as the echo gets sounded over a wider latitude and a million times louder. And therein lies the magic of stardom – that of having the power to alter accepted mindsets and mould opinions by playing God in creating that which seems unthinkable.

Here’s then to Aamir. Kudos to him for picking up the gauntlet. May his tribe increase!!!