The Little Things that Matter

Good journalism lies in the details. I've been hearing that plenty the past month and a half.

Get what the people said, in exact quotes. Get what they were wearing, what they were doing at the time of the incident you are reporting, their reactions, facial expressions, neighbours' views, family and friends speak - anything that helps "breathe life" into the subject. Make him "come alive" in your writing.

At first, I though the advice was a bit over the top. But then I realized that journalism is all about the people it covers. Their stories, their lives, their experiences. Journalism is the tool that makes them heard to the rest of the world. Peoples' role is pivotal and therefore they need to be captured as accurately as possible in a story. And that's where the details make all the difference.

Now I realize that while details are the answer to superior journalism, it's also applicable to almost everything else. Excellence lies in the details. It's what makes the distinction between better and the best. It's the line that divides acceptable from perfect. It's the difference between almost there and far beyond.

So pay attention to the details. Don't forget to smile or eat a good breakfast. Get eight hours of sleep and donate to charity, in time/money. Love your job but love the people in your life more. And most importantly, love yourself enough to make the effort.

You never know when it will be the day that the little details count.

A Ridge with an Edge

I flipped the last page of Judgment Ridge by Mitchell Zuckoff and Richard Lehr and breathed a sigh of releif. The nerve-wracking weeks I had spent staying up late and chewing on my fingernails to find out more about the murder case that rocked New Hampshire seven years ago had come to an end. And at the end of the read, some painful realizations became clearer.

There is a fine line between sanity and insanity. It's a delicate mental balance, which if disrupted, can make a person's actions baffling to their own family and friends. Not that they're always easily understood by the same otherwise. The killers, in this case, chanced upon Half and Suzanne Zantop as the couple prepared to enjoy another lazy weekend. They were the victims of an act of violence dreamt up by two small-town teenagers who had too much spare time. And one of who thought himself to be a "superior being."

What made the killers unlike their peers who spent their time enjoying the snow and the rustic outdoors? What made them think that they would get away with their porous plan of killing randomly-selected people after robbing them to runaway and live their lives like vagabonds?

It's likely no one will entirely understand what the two teenaged boys were thinking at the time of the murder or what caused them to hatch the bizarre plan in the first place.

But what truly deserves a mention is the impeccable reconstruction of events that the authors have managed to achieve. Investgative reporters for The Boston Globe, Zuckoff and Lehr have transported readers to the scene of the crime and the days that preceded it, leading to the build up, and allow them to witness it by narrating the story in scary detail. It's not just the details that are scary. It's the precision with which they've got all of them.

A line in the book speaks of one of the killers revisiting a "place that he loathed," referring to him reliving the double murders, during police questioning. It's similar for the readers who are taken to a loathed place and play silent spectators as the authors piece together the bloody carnage that ensued that January afternoon.

The people of Chelsea will never find answers for why two of "their children" turned into cold-blooded killers. Half and Suzanne Zantop are gone forever. The way in which they are spoken about in the book drives home the great tragedy in losing the couple. But there probably wasn't a better way to immortalize them than this book.

A definite recommended read.

Triumphing over Parkinson's

"The good thing about Parkinson's is that it can't kill you," he says. It's ironic that a man who ran regularly and bicycled 15 miles a day just four years ago, now concentrates hard just to rise from his seat.

"I'm very self-conscious," he admits. "But the medicines help. See, my hands aren't shaking as much," he says, holding one out.

I see.

"Please don't be self-conscious. There's so much more to you to notice than that."

He's grateful for the comment. Now I just wish he takes it to heart.

My First Sound Slide Story - Feedback Welcome (This has sound too so you may want to turn up the volume. Hope you enjoy it.)

Off the hook

"...guitar sounds are on their way out..."
- Dick Rowe, executive of Decca Records about the Beetles.

"Television won't matter in your lifetime or mine."
- Rex Lambert, Radio Times editor in 1936

I believe similar words of discouragement were blasphemously and infamously uttered when Alexander Graham Bell was attempting to launch his invention of the telephone. And it was a turbulent beginning fof the cell phone as well.

Today, I sit in my apartment, miles away from home, divided by ocean, land and time. But my family and friends always seem close by. The Internet helps undoubtedly. But the phone calls are the real highlight. Hearing a loved one's voice in real time allows you to naively believe that they are just a few houses down from your own. As I'm talking, I can visualise the signals and the long elegant paths they travel to make my voice heard so far away.

Where would be without these inventors who fought to realise their dreams? Depending on letters that would take weeks to arrive and broaden the chasm that inevitably settles comfortably between two entities that are forced into a lack of communication.

I like being able to call home. I like receving calls from friends. There will be plenty more inventors who will meet narrow-minded obstacles. I only hope that they step over them like pebbles in order to make their genius available to the world.

Until then, I'll bask in the fact that Mr. Bell and I share an alma mater.

Presenting Coldplay

Coldplay resurrects my faith in the existence of good music.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBEYyHGbwto

Common Ground by Scott Strazzante

And this one struck a chord with me especially since a home is such a sacred entity in Indian culture. Joint families are the norm, generations live under one roof, speaking of selling the ancestral property is blasphemous. Watch this video and leave your comments. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

http://mediastorm.org/0023.htm

Baby Drops of Blood

I thought this was beautiful and should be shared. Enjoy!

http://www.kansascity.com/static/Entertainment/blood_v2_021808_kr/

What's in a name? - A lot Shakespeare!

How hard it is to say Ayesha? Yes, Ayesha. Just two syllables. Aye-sha. No, not Ayeeesha. Ayesha. Stop it, there's no 'L' in my name. For the last time, my name is not Alisha!

What Parkinson's?

You're immaculately dressed and always on time. You're never grumpy and are regular to class. You take pride in your past while being hopeful of the future. Your eyes twinkle with mischief like that of a seven-year old boy. You've lived a full life and don't see why you should slow down now. Neither do we.

You're bursting with energy and I know for a fact that if you had been healthier, it would have been hard keeping up with you. It's already a challenge to match your step.

And while I have to admit that you're not always the best to teach the subject, I think you teach us plenty more. About life and what lies beyond the textbooks. That a smile can take you far and that no reason is good enough to give up on life or yourself. You are alive as long as you breathe and it's a crime to not take advantage of every second. You teach us about life - not by words but by your shining example. You make me want to be a better person. Parkinson's disease has found a tough opponent in you. Here's to your undaunting strength and tireless spirit. I hope that you continue to spread your infectious cheer.