Kumar wasn’t sure of what to expect. He had never been to a bris in his life, let alone heard of one. When he returned to his apartment after dinner, a very long dinner at that, with Steven at Mykonos that Tuesday evening, he threw all the stuff he carried in his pockets on to his desk, changed his clothes and then pulled out his phone to get onto the internet.

“It’s like everything else in life,” thought Tom as he lowered his car window and called over to a man standing by the roadside. “It’s like everything else,” he continued talking to himself, “what you dream of being in life and what actually happens are generally two different things.”

“And now for something completely different,” John read the sign over the doorway a few times before entering the store. He had never been to Markham before, but had heard that the town of 5,000 inhabitants boasted having the most fish and chip shops per capita of any town in the country. And that this one, the one with a very strange name, was simply the best. John had arrived in town, which was located on the South Western shore of England, not too far from Land’s End, the night before on a business trip.

“Max!” shouted Timmy at the top of his little lungs as he raced across the sand and threw his wings around his best friend. Max for his part was somewhat embarrassed, but carefully wrapped his wings around Timmy as well. “I’m sorry for all the bad things I’ve ever said about you,” continued Timmy sounding as if he was about to cry.

“Am I reading that sign properly?” Steven asked the question of anyone and everyone who stopped to wonder why he was standing outside the large windows of the grocery store and not going inside. Needless to say, most thought him to be not quite there and kept their distance from him. But Steven was undeterred. He kept standing there, reading the large sign in the window over and over again. There were many advertisements displayed trying to lure prospective shoppers into their halls with the numerous sales. But those didn’t interest Steven.

It was a Tuesday night when Stanley met Kumar at ‘Mykonos,’ a Greek restaurant in midtown Manhattan. It was practically empty with the exception of the wait staff who were pleased to see Stanley, which made Kumar believe he was well known there, and he was. They were shown to a table in the back of the restaurant close to the kitchen and far enough away for any other patrons not to hear their conversation. After they had sat down, had been served a glass of wine and engaged in small talk for a couple of minutes, Stanley began.

Derek loved trains as a child. In fact, he had loved trains all of his life. As far back as he could remember he enjoyed watching trains, building toy trains, and playing with a train set when he was all of two years old, even though he didn’t understand what it was. He just enjoyed watching them go around and around on the tracks in his room.

Dawn hadn’t broken yet. The world outside Ethan’s window was still very dark. He lay in bed wondering if he had a moment to reflect on the day before and how he could improve upon his life.

Each day Ethan got up at approximately the same time and each morning he decided that wouldn’t do. His life was flying past at full speed, and he knew it. Ethan just wished he could get it to slow down.

Rosa hated eating eggs. She considered it murder.

“How can you eat eggs knowing that every time you do, you’re killing one of us?” Julia and the rest of the family who loved eggs and ate eggs every breakfast tried to plead with Rosa for some common sense.

“They aren’t Sandpiper eggs!” Julia tried to explain to her younger sister. “They are chicken eggs.”

There’s an old saying which goes, “if you don’t have your health, you have nothing!” And that is very true. One can have all the money in the world and all the status they could’ve wished for, but unless they’re in good shape physically and mentally then they really have nothing.

When Alice was told of this saying once, she really took it to heart. In fact, she went to the extreme.

True to his word, about a month after Kumar had dinner with the extended Rosenbaum family at their country club in Northern New Jersey, his mobile phone rang. Kumar was deeply engrossed in a book he had picked up from the college library, and so the sound of the ring made him jump. His initial reaction was to curse himself for not turning off the ringer as he normally did. But after picking up the phone and recognising the number, he was somewhat glad he hadn’t. Maybe the universe was telling him something.

There are more than 10,000 famer suicides reported in India every year. 2020 was the worst year on record. In the Punjab, 3 to 4 farmer suicides were reported in the local news every day. When the farmer commits suicide, the government compensates the family, however, if the woman commits suicide, there is no compensation. A woman cannot be considered a farmer. Source: Businessinsider.com.

“Mummy, Mummy, Mummy!” screamed Rosa as she flew into the kitchen where her mother and older sister were busy trying to perfect braiding a round challah. They naturally stopped and looked at an out of breath sandpiper, “Mummy, Mummy, Mummy!” she repeated again, “Timmy has a girlfriend! Timmy has a girlfriend!”

“Kumar! How nice to see you again. It’s been a very long time.” Kumar for his part had to steady himself. He knew if he took a step backwards, something he contemplated doing, he would’ve fallen down the stairs to the embarrassment of everyone. He immediately recognised the man. Yes, he was older. A few years older. A little more grey hair, but other than that, there was something different about Brinkmanship Rosenbaum.

“Mummy, what’s Gefilte Fish?”

“Oh, it’s awful!” answered Sybil exaggerating a shiver.

“Really?” Julia was surprised at her mother’s reply, “it says here in the Jewish Cooking Monthly that you have to be a Jew to like Gefilte Fish. Does that mean you’re not really Jewish?”

It wasn’t until 9 months after Kumar had met Stanley Kramer that he finally, on a rain-soaked day while preparing for an exceptionally difficult test, decided to pick up the phone and call him.

“Look Ma!”

“Rosa! Get out of the water at once. How many times have I told you that you’ll catch a cold. You still, after all the lessons I’ve given you, haven’t learnt to chase the wave as it’s going out to catch your lunch and not stand there looking foolish while the waves wash over your feet.”

I had a decision the night before I left Shangri-La and headed home to Pennsylvania. I could either get on the road at the break of dawn, what I have done before, or try something different. I opted for the latter.

I got up at my usual time, made my coffee and once ready, headed out on to the deck.

Kumar had a great deal of difficulty processing the speed at which, and what appeared to be the never-ending changes in his life. He was too scared though to process it thoroughly. The very fact that just a few short years ago he was running home from the school he attended in his village, where the only drinking water was a well built in the centre courtesy of a wealthy landowner,

Oh, what rapturous welcome I received this morning after I had tied my shoelaces and made my way down the stairs on to the sand. There, at the bottom was a small congregation of sandpipers.

“Good morning!” shouted one and I smiled.