Pages

Sunday, February 23, 2014

What is digital communication anyway?




INTRODUCTION

Communication is a very vital part of each one of our lives. Digital communication is just one of the means by which we can choose to express our self and communicate with one another. Just like how it is with any other form of communication, the digital environment has its own set of tools and techniques by way of which we can make its optimum utilization.  

Within the right context and the right environment, digital communication can really thrive well and can become a foremost channel by which we improve our networking with others and make digital technology a really relevant part of our lives.

Of late, there has been a spur of innovation in the field of technology and this makes it all the more crucial for us to stay updated on an everyday basis. With each spark of innovative genius, technology only seems to get better, more user–centric and genuinely useful thereby making it an indispensable tool for users. 

With the series of write ups that will follow in the coming days, I hope that I will help each one of you, irrespective of your previous background in the industry to make the best use of technology for making life simpler and more fulfilling as each day passes by.

Friday, September 13, 2013

Hi I am Huzefa!




Hi I am Huzefa! And here is a story that I want to share with you through this exclusive medium of blogging. This story is about a life changing experience of my life. But more than anything else, it is a tribute to my loved ones who gave their love and dedication to improve my life post the incident that has resulted in the abundant shower of blessings and grace back in my life!

I live in a big city called Chennai that throbs with the dreams and aspirations of many to make it big and mighty. Like every youngster, I attended regular college that was followed by an exciting phase of work life. I had took up work at my very own business enterprise, under the keen guidance of my father and with the strong support of my elder brother. Here I learnt most of the skills in business and marketing. Soon after, this learning phase earned me a valuable career opportunity.

However, being a hyperactive person that I am, I wanted to add some bit of excitement to my career. I went ahead to chase the goal of studying travel management at a leading travel institute. In fact, a really close and trusted friend of mine who was also in the same field helped boost my confidence in every possible way. And so I just grabbed the opportunity like anything, which now I believe was the very first step that sowed the seed for my future.


I completed a diploma in travel management soon after and received a timely opportunity to practice the knowledge that I had developed during the period. Thereafter, I had joined as a trainee officer at Emerald Airways. Located at Spencer plaza, and quite close to my home, Emerald Airways offered me a beautiful growth opportunity. So even though the job did not bring me big money at that time, I was still happy and content.

It was that time of the year when Ramadan was going on and we observed fasting very religiously. That day too, like any normal day, I got ready to go to the office on my bike. I never realized however, that something very strange and unusual was going to happen to me that day. By the time I completed a quarter of the distance, I reached War Memorial where I was hit by a lorry from behind.

The lorry hit me at an unknown angle and that too suddenly and tremendously, but as I was under fasting the impact was slow on me. Soon though, I did come to terms with the incident and realized that I was under the wheels of a giant and merciless tipper lorry, and that if I did not act immediately, the journey of my life would end in no time. As it turned out, things took a completely new shape. Almost on impulse, I called out to a higher power by uttering the words – “YA ALI MADAD”! And then the miracle happened. I didn’t seem to understand at first but slowly the realization dawned upon me to become conscious of the surrounding persons who were there with me. These persons were good Samaritans who were sent by the higher power to be with me and to help me to overcome the darkest moments of the tragedy. This could only be described as a mystical power that bestowed abundant courage to a dying man for defying all the odds and to overcome the tragic situation that followed thereafter.

Today when I look back, I believe that this incident has bestowed me with the gift to value my life like never before and has opened multiple doors for phenomenal power and energy to enter and transform my life for good.

We say that Ya Ali Mushkil Kusha is the right hand of Allah and Allah loves him very much.  Allah gave me my life back only because I called Ya Ali Mushkil Kusha for his help and my faith has saved me.  In Ali (A.S)’s presence, all the devils decided to run off from the place. No evil could stand the power of Ali (A.S.) it’s true I have seen it.  Believe me a dying man will never tell lies.  I have to say and will say this repeatedly as and when required till I die, till the last breath, I have been so fortunate that such a powerful personality has saved me. Thus he will save to all those who will call upon him and pray to him with earnestness and sincerity.  AMEEN.


Blog post by Huzefa. Huzefa is my elder brother who like every brother is very caring & protective. This blog post is dedicated to his well being. I wish him God’s choicest grace for his bright and successful future.     

Monday, July 15, 2013

To My Mother

Hi and here is a poem written by my sister for our MOM on her birthday way back in the year 2001! 
READ AND ENJOY!!!

How nice is God
He made you my Mum
From the moment my Life began
I knew I was the Lucky one!

When I am lonely
I look up for your company
For you are not just a Mother
But also a friend to me.

Though my sister you love more
I know you love me also
I always felt jealous because you turned to her side
Even when I was beside

Whenever I scream and yell at you
You never say a word or two
You ignore my faults and let it go
Because I am still a kid for you.

You always spared the rod
Even though it were my fault
Whenever we both fought
I keep scolding you a lot
Still you have a heart to forgive
Though I hut you more or little!

Mummy,
Each day my love for you grows more and more
But I know that I can never show

Though many times I have disobeyed you
And many time I don't even talk to you
Still I know you love me true

You helped me learn all my lessons
From standard one to standard twelve
You make me laugh whenever I feel blue
If I don't have a friend,
I know I can come back to you.

I remember when you taugtht me Maths
I always use to sit like a dumb
And you use to solve the sum
 Now, when I chat on the computer
With my sister
You always stand beside me
And work like a tape recorder
I always keep telling you
That I am not a computer too.

Mummy,
You make such tasty dishes
You always cook according my wishes
But sometimes when its not so good
You are sure it will spoil my mood.

Whenever you take me out for shopping
I never come back without buying something,
And If I am hungry and want to eat


I know that my mummy will give me a treat!

When I come home from college
You first serve me my lunch
Whenever you give me a cup of milk
I tell you, even you must drink.

You listen to all my stories and jokes
Even though you  get very bored
You laugh sometimes at what I say or do
And you even make funny faces
The way I want you to
I am the lucky me
To have such a nice mummy!!

 

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Train No 12603


This document has been shared with me by a very special friend, and whose gleanings about the subject of life and love is a constant fount of wisdom for me. 

 The  Train No 12603 – A Travelers Journey beyond the Physical
Realms

           

              “We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, Other  
                                              Lives, Other Souls.” 
                                                                                                                   
- Anais Nin

             I’m sure most of us love traveling by Train either with Family, Friends or alone. These train journeys have several tales to tell, some last as long as the journey and some last forever. Every Train, every compartment, every seat has its own unique tale of the passengers who had traveled. Just imagine the number of stories every train has in store. Some stories strike a chord and this one is close to me. My story begins with a journey of a girl on train no 12603.

            The girl (well, lets name her as T) was on her way to her new home in a different city. The look on T’s face was one of gloom and sorrow. It looked like she was running away from some distress which was clogging her mind and thoughts. On that fateful day, she was unable to acquire an AC coach for herself as it was a public holiday and an extended weekend, which added to her misery. As she was sitting inside the Train lost in some thoughts, she felt the only consolation now was the fact that she was going home to meet her parents. T had a side lower berth and the seat opposite hers was empty for the first 1 minute after the train had started. The next minute there comes a guy (let’s name him Z) huffing and sweating and catching on his breath, relieved that he made it. T looked at her new neighbor very briefly that she hardly saw his face completely. By the time the guy settled down, T had already immersed herself in a book, written by Khaled Hosseini. T’s seat felt the turmoil in her head as she seemed to be reading, but her mind was entangled like a barbed wire.

             Z seemed tired and he glanced shortly at T once…. twice… thrice. T felt that the guy opposite was staring at her and she dint want to glance back at him. Z noticed the dress T was wearing, the caption on her Tee, the flat slip on, the title of the book and her Ipod. An hour passed nobody spoke a word. T was not in favor of talking to co passengers on her travels as she was an introvert and liked to keep company with herself. Z was flashing a glance every now and then. At last T’s mobile rang and it was a call from home, she ended her conversation with her mother stating that she wasn’t sure what time the train would reach the destination. The conversation was loud enough and after the call Z at last spoke, saying that the train reaches by morning 6, smiling gently. Z asked T whether she was traveling to her destination for the first time and from there on the two passengers hit it off on their interesting conversations which lasted till 1.30 am in the night. There was nothing stopping them from their never ending stories of each other they had in store. Z was a doctor, who was passionate about his work and helping his patients. He felt serving people was like serving God. He was an ambitious and a well read person who spent few years in UK. Z was a good looking man with something unique about his eyes. Something inside T told her that she had known this person before but she very religiously suppressed that thought and went to sleep. One of the common factors between these two passengers was that they could never sleep in a train. T went to the upper berth and Z was semi sleeping in his lower berth. These two individuals had no idea whether they would ever see each other again. The next day morning when the train reached the destination after an hours delay, T was feeling very heavy to leave Z for some strange reason. Z had spoken a lot on the previous night and he had touched somewhere the chords of her heart. She put away that thought, exchanged Email ids and waved goodbye to her unique, special co passenger who left his mark, of whom she could never forget.

              As days went by they started mailing each other and there were circumstances where she met him as a doctor in the hospital he was working. Though T would be sick when meeting him, but somewhere down her heart she would feel happy to see him again. I am reminded at this moment of the famous quote by Tagore:
     “Days and night Pass and Ages Bloom and fade like a Flower.”

Days passed into months, months into years and millions of things took place individually in both their lives, some where happy, some were disastrous; some were gloomy, some where challenging.

Both their lives were occupied with various things but T could never let his thought inside her fade. It looked to her as if he was holding one string of her Heart.

             The journey itself had a hidden message which nobody could apprehend. T believes that meeting Z was no accident or coincident, it was a choice the soul had taken long back. T couldn’t express her feelings till date to Z. It was neither an infatuated flick at first meeting, nor any flimsy imagination. It was just not Love, it was and is much more than that, in the spirits. It has no shape, no design, no letters, no gifts; it is something more than the earthly things. The intense feelings in its own have a thousand stories to share but unexpressed, suppressed and fear of disappointing Z.
          When T feels these feelings for him, she feels closer to God; she feels the goodness of Life. She feels complete. It’s a platonic relationship she shares with him and will remain with her through out all her lifetimes. It’s more of a metaphysical experience. This journey of T was just not a physical journey from one place to another, but a journey inside her soul and beyond the realms of this earth and recognizing the other through the eyes which is the window of the soul. The journey of these two souls doesn’t end here in this plane; it is a continuous journey of unconditional love which eventually will go back to its Source. T’s love for Z is the same till day.

         This article is dedicated to my Twin-Soul who I am profoundly in love with and will always be for the lives to come. I wish this lovely Soul is filled with the happiness that the world could ever hold for anyone. Today I know what love is. It is YOU.

        “He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, 
                                    his and mine are the same.” 
                                                                       - Emily Bronte