Israel Chronicles: P.A.L.E.S.T.I.N.E. - The West Bank story

On Day 4, TP and I fulfilled our long time secret desire of traveling to Palestine when we visited Nablus in West Bank(Palestinian Authority). We were part of a guided tour with a company called 'Alternate Tours' (managed by Abu Hassan).We highly recommend him and the tour company.

To give a brief background, Nablus is an olive-rich PA territory, famous for its Olive soaps, communal ovens and Kunafeh. It also gained notoriety as the hub of the second Intifada, early last decade and ever since has been under strict Israeli (Jewish) control. Our tour group consisted of 12 people - 2 Spaniards doing social work in Ramallah, 8 trade unionists from Norway (who had broken off their ties with an Israeli trade Union and were doing a recce of Nablus to decide if they wanted to affiliate with them) and my TP and I(2 Indians, with sketchy knowledge of the Israeli-Palestinian politics, but high on enthusiasm).

Our first stop was at Balata.

A UN refugee camp established in the 1950's,it resembles the dense living conditions of Dharavi in Bombay.We had the opportunity to interact with the community centre head (an American of Palestinian origin)who spoke about the multitude of problems facing Balata, from lack of civic amenities, to lack of job opportunities and lack of space, all leading to a spiral of depression, anger and finally organized violence.

We walked around camp through alleys that barely let us walk in single file, past toilets that were stinking due to water shortage,past vegetable vendors, haggling women,thoughtful old men fresh-faced teenagers furiously typing away on their laptops, old ramshackle cars,

girls playing football…(yes, you read right) GIRLS playing football and young boys discussing the latest football game (it was an Arsenal – Munich Bayern one I think!).The westerners with us were shocked at the living conditions, the two of us Indians were heartened by the indomitable spirit visible in abundance.Every street corner had pictures of martyrs who were killed in their struggle for a free Palestine by the Israeli army. Oh, how common it is to the country- Arab or Jew - to honor their dead and remember their names and faces.

Our tour group then met the Mayor of Nablus (what an honor, what a wonderful insight into Palestinian politics). The building was very similar to any Indian beaurocratic building (not surprising considering Palestine was a British Mandate).

We waited in a conference room which had several pictures, of previous Mayors dating all the way back to the late 1800s! The mayor, bustling with energy and enthusiasm swept into the room a few minutes later. He was interested in understanding our ‘outside’ perspective of Palestine's issues. Palestinian cities have twin cities all over the world, with Stavanger, Norway being a twin to Nablus. Nablus's mayor shared his plans to invite Stavanger's Mayor and some school children on a cultural-exchange program.

The Mayor talked about the current peace process, Norway's role and narrated some ground-level realities that sent chills up my spine.

Israeli settlers (Jews from anywhere in the world) are paid to ‘settle’(or squat) on Palestinian land and practise the Jewish way of life. Adequate comfort is provided through generator sets and borewells, and security through military presence. Palestinian land is encroached upon by building fences and ‘declared’ the property of the Jewish settler there. Woe betide any Palestinian who decides to contest this hostile takeover… he could spend his fortune in a legal process and his life in jail. If settlers refuse to ‘settle’ in these lands, and the land happens to be too close to the Israeli border (decided by the Israelis), the land could be declared ‘no-man’s zone’.

Recently (just a couple of days before we visited Nablus), an Israeli settler’s 4 year old kid had been killed.

Immediately several Palestinians had been rounded up, put in jails, their families traumatized, road blocks established around Nablus, Balata’s water supply cut off for 3 days and yet,no confessions. Finally the murderer turned out to be a Thai migrant worker who wanted to return to Thailand (against his Israeli employer’s wishes) and wanted his salary (due to him for over 6 months). On being refused time and again, he lost his marbles (when his kid lost his life back home due to lack of funds)and in an act of revenge, he killed his employer’s child. And so many Palestinians wronged!

The Mayor said something that still resonates in my ears. He said “I only own the land I stand on. If I want to buy my neighbor’s house, I have to take permission (from the Israelis). If I want to build an extra storey for my newly married son,

I have to take permission (from the Israelis).If I want to dig the ground for water to feed my newborn, I have to take permission (from the Israelis).” The Mayor was hopeful about change in the near future. All Palestinians were. All Palestinians are. When you hit rock-bottom, there is no way but up, ain’t it? He talked about the power of youth and Facebook, and how Egyptian youngsters had harnessed the power of the internet for a good cause. He expressed hope for a ‘Final Settlement’ in Obama's tenure(ah,the man of ‘Change’ and ‘Hope’!)

We walked around the market later.

The market is a traditional Arab souk. Long winding alleys, smiling men in the their traditional kaffiyehs, selling everything from headscarves to spices to hardware equipment... and curious about the non-Caucasian tourist women! 2 brown-skinned women with Indian features can probably pass off as Arabs…the moment we proclaimed we were Indian, it would be greeted with smiles and claps and loud cheers, sometimes extolling Gandhi (do you remember him?), sometimes Amitabh Bachhan, sometimes SRK, and surprise, sometimes Shahid Kapoor!

We had men gallantly singing “Abhi na jao chodke” to “Yeh chand sa roshan chehra” to “Dil to pagal hai”! Yet, we NEVER felt unsafe, never felt harassed. I think Indian men could learn from Palestinians how to be chivalrous and walk the tough line of being pleasantly charming, never flirtatious or annoying. We sampled the world-famous Nabulsi Kunafeh, a lovely dish made of cheese that just melts in your mouth. Bought some scarves (how could we not!), olive soap and zatar(an ingredient in several Lebanese hung-curd based dishes).

My hotel manager (a LOVELY guy called Sammy) hails from a place near Nablus. When he saw our gift of a plate of original Nabulsi Kunafeh he almost kissed us(no he didn’t though!). He said something that shocked us.

He hasn’t been to Nablus in over twenty years and hasn’t met his relatives there in all that time. He said that no matter how tasty the kunafeh in Jerusalem is, it isn’t Nabulsi and could never be authentic! He said it was probably easier to visit the North Pole than Nablus! The (American)community centre manager in Balata had talked about entry barriers too and I hadn’t believed him then. Any American / Canadian of Palestinian origin cannot just decide to visit his relatives – he might be sent back at the airport itself(no immigration clearance). If he landed in Amman, Jordan, then at the Jordanian-Israeli border(so close, yet so far).

In fact, Israeli roads are built in the West Bank area with so many check posts that traffic could halt sometimes for days on end.Villages that would barely take 20 minutes by road could take over 8 hours due to checkpost clearances and round-about travel routes.In contrast, a Jew could declare his religion in Greenland or Pluto for that matter, and an El Al ticket and Isareli citizenship is guaranteed and the country open to him for travel and living. Such disparity based on religion in today's time and age is upsetting.

My take at the end of the trip? I think the Western media has got it all WRONG. I think more than half the world has got it wrong. At a political level, the Palestinian land belongs to the Arabs too.

The Israelis are doing unto the Palestinians the injustices that were wrought onto them - first by getting the Palestinians into today's ghettos (by imposing rules in PA cities) and then possibly by ousting them out of their country.My fervent prayers for peace to prevail. At a social level, I hope for better understanding of the Arab culture by the Westerners.

They are just as fun loving and courteous and polite as a Malaysian or Chinese or Japanese or Canadian.And large hearted.Arab women do hold positions of power, play soccer, use MAC lipsticks, wear designer shoes and swoon over Bradley Cooper.So there!The world would be a better place with more understanding and open-mindedness for diversity, ain't it?



Moral of the story: Hope reigns supreme. The defining picture of my visit to West Bank is this one -

a lovely green shrub smiling at the world,enjoying the sun,despite growing in a stone building....reflective of its caretakers, its country. Despite all the violence and political unrest, the hope and love in the country is incredible. A must visit.

World Cup and the lessons

The World Cup Cricket 2011 is one of the momentous occasions that defines our lives. Similar to the magnitude of the Tsunami or Twin Towers bombing, thankfully HAPPY in nature.

We'll always remember and talk about what we were doing then... at a pub, at home, in bed, with the husband, with someone else... whatever. We'll remember the tears of joy when Dhoni hit the last six, the tears in Sachin's eyes, Gary's quiet joy, Virat's lovely comment... Even the smaller details will stay with us for many years to come...Poonam Pandey, the dirt streak on Dhoni's shirt during his batting innings, Sreesanth's hair, 'wicked' Malinga, the man in the audience who had painted his entire body, Rajni and Aamir together (and the couplets about Dhoni, Rajini and Gajini)and the euphoric crowds.

In an era of disillusionment with the Government,with the maid,with the American President,the hairdresser,the boss,

the Saravana Bhavan dosas,the admission process at school, the media, the rat race, the rats..... everything, Dhoni has given us the only thing that seems rarer than flowers in a desert - HOPE and OPTIMISM. The sight of the entire team carrying Sachin has re-instilled faith that 'Indian' values of love and respect for an older person (player) still live. Dhoni shaving off his head the next morning has re-given meaning to 'faith' and prayers. Kirsten choosing to go back home reminds us that 'karma' is king, what follows is not for us to decide. Harbhajan Singh thanking the whole world has reaffirmed that vote of thanks is best short, maybe 15 seconds or so! The Government offering different slabs of money to the team has re-confirmed us that in India you have to be 'seen' working. The flag doing the victory laps around the ground brought back memories of childhood pledges to 'do our best for the nation' (are we?).

Thank you cricket team. Thank you for the cup. Thank you for the lessons. And thank you for proving that Chenin Blanc Chardonnay can be consumed in the afternoon too.

Travel - Daddy vs. Mommy

Scenario 1: Dad is leaving for a week's travel. What does he do?
a) Pack his bags.
b) Send his contact details to wife.
c) Kiss wife and son goodbye.


Scenario 2: Mom is leaving for a week's travel. What does she do?
a) Prepare child for mommy's absence for a week - TOUGH job.
b) Ensure that groceries are stocked up for a week.
c) Pay all utility bills, so that there are no disruptions in her absence.
d) Store the valuables safely, knowing that cupboards could be left open.
e) Instruct daily help on the 'NO LEAVE FOR A WEEK' policy and promise rich rewards if they are punctual and do their work without constant instruction.
f) Call child's teacher, doctor and neighbors to be on standby - just in case child is sick or dad is late or forgets to pick him up!
g) Fix back-ups
- telling (mom's)mom how the house JUST cannot run if she doesn't come for atleast 3 days to look after child.
- sigh to (mom's)mom-in-law that her help is most necessary as her son would be hard-pressed for time handling work, child and house.


h)Pack his bags.
i) Send his contact details to wife.
j) Kiss wife and son goodbye.

This is true in every woman's life, give or take a few activities. Having said that, I must add disclaimer that I can actually leave my house to my husband and travel knowing well that he does a good job if he puts his mind to it!

Women - my heart-felt salaams to you. May your feet travel as much as your heart does!

Tuppence, Two Cents and my Baarah Aane.

The last few weeks have been a riot, both in my little world and the big bad world outside.

Like my eco prof in b-school would say in his accent, "Let ush doo da maaaacro-ekonumiksh fusht" :) Was ashamed to read of the death at IIT-Kharagpur caused by lack of medical facilities. Imagine his parents... they would have had so many dreams for their child. He must've slogged his butt off to get into IIT. And then a sudden end because of no medical facilities? Shocking. And we talk of "india Shining'. God help us! In the same vein, I was stunned to read of the death of a medical student in HP in a ragging incident. He was beaten to death by his seniors. I know all of us have academic or professional or personal pressures, but does it ever merit violence of this order? I wonder why not one of these wannabe doctors had the sense to stop? They have sealed their own fate in one case of peer pressure. Sigh!

IPL and the elections are leaving me bemused, sometimes bored. So I skip the topic and move on to my little world.

Last saturday P and I attended an orientation at a school (based in Bandra) for their mother-toddler program. This program is offered to infants and toddlers in the age bracket of 7 - 17 months and their mother/father (who accompany the child to the school for a one hour and fifteen minutes session thrice a week). Given the age of the 'students', naturally, no formal teaching is involved. The child is exposed to music, games involving gross and fine motor skills and different languages (Hindi, English and Marathi). Nothing that cannot be taught at home, but I like the concept of Button being able to interact with babies his age. P and I were stunned to receive a questionnaire at the end of the orientation. We had to fill out the answers separately. A sample of the questions is listed below.
* If you think your child should inculcate good manners such as being polite, who do you think is responsible for developing the same?
* What do you want your child to be?
* Why do you think your child should receive a holistic education?
* What is the difference between spirituality and religion?
Well, we were amused, but being the tams that we are, any exam is to be taken seriously, even if it is an opinion poll :) So we did our best and await results this friday. Am not yet sure if Button should travel from Prabhadevi to Bandra (travel time = 1 hour) at this age, but the decision can wait until results are out!

I have become a maid manager these days. My cook comes in the morning and watches me cook (seriously, she doesn't know how to cook and has been 'learning' for over a week now. Even how to make tea!) Then my kaamwali maid arrives and takes no notice of my repeated entreaties to wash the vessels after scouring them or to pour water over the bathroom floors after washing them with a floor cleaner. (She has a ball watching me do my slide dance when I enter the bathroom to bathe Button). In the meantime my baby-sitter arrives. She forgets any instruction I give her (to rival my memory!) So every day's work spills over to the next 2 -4 days. Finally in the evening, another maid comes to sweep and swab again. She has to have a story-telling session everyday (and in true spirit I compete with make-believe episodes!) Mostly stories of her 'koliwada', the absence of morality there, her good old days as a fish monger and how I have to be 'careful' with a young baby around. Oh, and how could I forget my driver? Mr.Gautam just has to see a red light and becomes a bull worthy of a spanish matador. He zooms ahead at full speed. Sometimes, even a speed-breaker does the same to him. And if I do not ask him to switch off the music, I get to hear the same 'Kiss me kiss me kiss me' type song on every station (he fiddles at top speed too) at top volume. I must say that at about half past seven, when it is just me and a tranquil cooing Button, I feel like I am in heaven, in peace. Only until P arrives. I have to return to adult words and the adult world then. :)

Madness and Mayhem

Button is so clearly developing a mind of his own. He can now babble 'ba ba ba' continuously, but chooses to do it ONLY when his dad is around. His baby-sitter is not helping my case by teaching him how to say 'appa' all the time. So the moment P comes into the room, Button goes into babble-overdrive. Its a task to shut him up!

ARR's youngest fan is Button indeed(after all both of us are such staunch fans of ARR). Whenever he listens to 'Masakali' he begins grinning. He also goes still (as if when he grins the rest of the body cannot move). I caught on immediately and began putting on the tape only when I had to change his diapers. So one evening, I put on the CD (despite the fact that he did not need a diaper change) and he started howling and stopped only when I pulled out a diaper and showed him. Gosh, how fast does a routine set in?

Button loves to watch the view from my bedroom and what a view it is (pls refer to pics). In the migratory season (NOW), there are scores of egrets and herons and storks and other such birds which alight on the mudflats near my home in low tide (those little specks in the pic). Button loves to watch them. These birds fly in a large group and often change mudflats in a huge swirl of white wings. Button, at 9 months, does not understand the concept of 'distance' yet. He puts out his hands in the hope of capturing one of 'em and gets annoyed when none of them alight near him. Bozo!

In TV news, I feel really sorry for a character in 'Balika Vadhu', whose husband-to-be is killed on the way to their wedding. But I feel sorrier for the characters who have to mouth silly lines... for example, the mother of the slain groom. As he son is bleeding, she has a line that goes "Dekhiye na, un badmaashon ne hamare bete to kya kiya". Duh! And even more amusing is the fact that the boy (who is shot through his chest and forced to lie on his mom's lap) smiles in memory of his waiting bride and refuses to let go of some flowers he picked for he. Is is possible to smile when a bullet is making friends with your lungs? Double duh.

Another TV grouse. Yes, it is shocking that Sri Lankan cricketers were attacked in Lahore. But CNN-IBN had no business talking to Javed Miandad the way they did. The reporters seemed to imply that terrorist attacks in Mumbai posed no security threats, but God save Pakistan if even a fire cracker shouted out to the cricketers. They asked him several RUDE questions with phrases like "in your country" and "terror outfits seem to originate in Pakistan". Please give normal citizens of the country a break. After all India has several terror outfits too (Ram Sene included). No need to harass a poor ex-cricketer. Am certainly Cheesed off.

Am continuing to battle maid trouble and lack of will power to lose weight. Hope both get resolved quickly. :) My last maid stopped doing one chore after the other citing lack of time, until she wore my patience out. When I asked her about her inefficiency, she said she would only do 1 - 3 of 10 agreed tasks as she did not 'feel' like doing the rest for me! (Is it me or is it me?) My current maid, on the 3rd day of her employment wants me to increase her salary by 200 bucks every month. Now, the money is one part, but what about professionalism? Where is it? I feel like am being held threat by a gang of extortionists.

This, that and Happy B'day!

First, this media hoopla on the racism slur. For the benefit of those who did not watch Times Now this morning, the entire piece of reporting on the Australia-India cricket tour was accompanied by moving images and Bollywood music... so first we started off with ‘Chak De India’ (winning the last test series in India) followed by a 'Chale Chalo' from Lagaan with the Aussies looking angry and aggressive (like they usually appreciably do and then the Hindi version of 'Tamizha Tamizha' (from 'Roja') with Harbhajan and Sachin looking mystified and upset! Let me not even talk about 'Mumbai Mirror' or Sun TV which have both gone bonkers over the tour progress.

My tuppence: Hey team, "you" are our nation's pride, we love you whether you win or lose. So 'Media Channels' STOP please! Am more upset at zero NFL coverage when the Divisional playoffs have started. Sigh!

I read this really lovely book called 'The Places In Between' by Rory Stewart. The author walked from Herat to Kabul in Afganistan in 2002 and this book is a lovely account of the walk. Not just because it combines my favourite elements of cultural insights and a mission impossible achieved, but also because it combines bits of history(Babur's walk through the same places) and has a human, nay, canine angle (the humane story of a dog. Very quietly, there is an objective presentation of political undertones and the wonderful work done by Aid agencies.

My Verdict: A must read, especially if you loved 'The Kite Runner' and Afganistan or books by Pico Iyer or 'A Long Way Gone' by Ishmael Beah.

The best for the last - "Happy Birthday Husband" Hope this year rocks for you in every way and I hope you like the surprise I have for you. (The surprise is private, but I also got him a 80 GB iPod so that he doesn't keep changing the playlists on mine! How romantic, right?!)


Happy New Year to all of you.. Hope you ushered it in safely and hope this year proves to be a wonderful memorable year for you!

Taare Zameen Par

Enough reviews have been written raving the virtousity of Darsheel and the subtle nuances of Tisca and Aamir. I loved the movie, no doubt...as testimony saw it twice in two days, both times in theatres spending a good 250 bucks on each ticket!My take, 6 reasons why I loved TZP.

1. I enjoyed the 'zara hatke' running-around-trees by dogs and children (which is natural looking) instead of an anorexic heroine and a constipated looking hero!

2. There were no items songs, no over-hyped villians, no, not even the Principal or the Parents!!

3. The classrooms have normal kids, not some superbrats or super-wise-beyond-their-years-grandmoms!

4. The movie really opens your eyes to difficulties like dyslexia and the varying emotions that both the child and parents have to deal with - especially the parents (from shock to denial to research to acceptance to working with it!)

5. Samir Mondal is certainly a wonderful painter... Loved the colors, the strokes, the vivid spectrums depicted. Geez, am becoming the artsy-f@rsty types, huh?

6. The music is YUMMY! I have refallen in love with Shankar Mahadevan, okay Ehsaan and Loy too, but def Shankar.

Umm, '7' is 'not allowed'. Picasso never understood the number! (cryptic reference.. watch movie for explanation)

Conclusion: I may have had dyslexia, but never got a chance to find out. I was made to slog even before I could figure out my 'b's and 'd's :)



ps: What did Santa bring? For my husband twas' a N95 Nokia and for us, a new set of wheels. More on that later.

Cheeni Kum - Especially post-interval!

"You see, George, you really had a wonderful life. Don't you see what a mistake it would be to throw it away?"
- It’s a wonderful life

No, am not going to talk about the plot or the actors (I think enough justice has been done to them in various blogs and critique review) Herez a recount the top-of-mind thoughts about the movie 12 hours after I watched it.

- Tabu looked ravishing. If I weren’t married and if I had had alternate preferences, I’d’ve made her pic my bathroom beauty! (the only other time she looked so wonderful was in a tamil pic ‘Kaadhal Desam’)

- Loved the gumption of Tabu when she says she is going ahead with her marriage plans and couldn’t wait for her dad to die. (Aravindswamy in ‘Bombay’?) Or the nicknames they had for each other (‘En Arumai Pattikaade’, anyone?) Or the lighthearted repartees (a la Mani Ratnam – ‘Agni Nakshatram’, ‘Anjali’, ‘Roja’, ‘Bombay’?) Not that am complaining. Similar genre I think.
- Amitabh was cool. His ponytail and single-rich-man demeanor was brilliantly executed. (Straight out of an Italian Count/Greek shipping magnate/Mediterranean Prince M & B!) The only other man who could pull this off (debatably) is Kamal Hassan (yes, kill me non-tams!).

- Ilayaraja rocks (coming from an A R Rahman fan, it’s a lot!) I’d forgotten how his music was the most hummable(MS word refuses to accept this word) and romantic pieces ever. Pure melody. Velvet smooth. Reminds me of a waiting-to-be-loved, warm mellow feeling after a few drinks on a nice breezy evening. :)

- The cinematography was fantastic. Light. Airy. Real at the same time. Yet, a place I wanted to be in, not currently in my grasp. Brilliant! P C Shriram is brilliant.

- Zora Sehgal was a riot. Nutty nag. (here’s a secret, my grandmom-in-law is a WWF fan too!)

- Paresh Rawal should’ve been a Hyderabadi or a Tam Brahm. The characterization would’ve been perfect then (arguably). He seemed a little over-the-top, especially the drama at the end.

- The kid was wasted. Precocious. Too smart for her age. Too sad. Unnecessary melodrama. Her lines, atleast in the first half were great, then they began to jar.

- The second half seemed like a private joke.. a mockery of commercial cinema with laughable long speeches (a la the Angry ‘Young’ Man!), silly references (Iron pillar at Qutub anyone?) and suddenly dampening Tabu’s joie-de-vivre(notice her dumbness when Amitabh comes to put ‘sindoor’ on her maang..silly!)

Overall, a wonderful movie. After a long time (after tamil movie ‘Mozhi’) I laughed so much in the theatre and enjoyed the repartees to the hilt. Restored my faith in Indian cinema after a disastrous ‘Shootout at Lokhandwala’ last Friday! A must-watch.

"I love that you get cold when it's seventy-one degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're lookin' at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes. And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely. And it's not because it's New Year's Eve. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."
- When Harry Met Sally

First steps...

Salaam Namaste! So here it is.. my own blog space.. happy b'day to me for starting a blog finally! What can you say about a twenty-six-year-old girl who started blogging? That she was beautiful and brilliant? That she loved fiction and food, travelling, and writing?

Okay, that was not a great rip off! But I like to think of Love Story as one of the most memorable books I've read. I read it when I was about 15. Stole it secretly from my mother's stash of books. Covered it with newspaper(see reading romance would give u a popularity rating less than President Bush!) Read it late at night tucked within my Social Studies CBSE History textbook.

The books is a simple Hindi movie formula story: Rich boy meets Poor girl. (Oliver and Jenny) Boy learns a lot from girl. Girl is bubby, principled and intelligent. We understand boy is fun loving and intelligent and principled too, and rich! They fall in love. Get married and sadly enough, girl dies. I know its sad. Maybe a li'l painful. She teaches him that 'Love means never having to say sorry' (I think on page 87!) And stored it away in our heads to be used with our partner (who we hoped would be exactly like Oliver) And believed in those words too. A lot.And dreamt a million dreams while reading the book. And cried like crazy at the ending.

Now at 26, I think the appeal of the books is precisely that. Youth. Dreams. Crazy love. Belief in love at first sight. Violins and Roses. And that love and fresh air are all that you need. If one turns 21 and then reads the book, I don't think it strikes you as one of the greatest books you read. I guess by 21 you grow up, become a li'l independent, perhaps a li'l cynical and realize that the rose tinted glasses are actually brown. And woe betide you if you watch the movie without reading the book. You'd never read it then I guess. The movie doesn't do much justice to the poetry and music of the book.

If you haven't read the book, I urge you to read it. Think of it as one of the greatest stories of the Vietnam war era. Read it for the story. For the romance to seep in a little bit."True love never has a happy ending, that is because true love never has an ending" You may even believe in it for a moment!

Cheerz!