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Stop to smell the roses It was the 80’s and I was proudly showing off my pocket transistor to my friends, a gift I had just received. Back then, only those who had uncles in the gulf owned such luxuries. Every Wednesday I would tune into a sweet voice “Jee haa Dostoon… mein Ameen Sayani aapka humsafar Binaca Geetmalamein aapka swagat karta hoon” (Friends, I am Ameen Sayani your host tonight welcoming you to Binaca geetmala) I can never ever match his style. Sports commentary was the other favourite programme which my friends and I would remain glued to. “The outfield is rough, score 3-1 Salimulah passes the ball to Kalimulla, the two brothers playing to the midfield, Kalimulla passes the ball to Salimulla; Salimullah passes the ball to Kalimulla, Kalimmula to Salimulla and that’s a goal Oh it’s an offside the goal is dissallowed , the players fume in disbelief . 30 seconds left for the match to finish. Germany appears to be going comfortably into the finals.” We enjoyed going