Authority - really ??

First day of class, a punishment to write a report for 1600 words and a boring 1.5 hour session later I was sipping on chai, just to shirk off the yawn that might have engulfed all of Singapore at least if not the Maldives. Leadership, vision and blah blah was the name of the next lecture - to be honest, this term was supposed to be a fraud competition to see who can choose subjects that do not require one racking his brains and losing more hair ;) So there I sat, smiling, because hell if a leadership and vision subject isn't fraud, I got no clue what is ! Ambling back to the lecture hall, climbed up to the second last row, corner seat to stay away from all attention while I slip into deep slumber. Just to complete the context, I have missed around 4 days of school, and as a result missed the screening of "the making of the Mahatma" - a movie on how M. K. Gandhi became a Mahatma.

In general, ask an engineering graduate who is doing his MBA to participate in such a discussion, like me he would just tilt the head either side and gently close his eyes, with an open mouth, wide enough to slip a ciggy in and not blow a whistle or snore. Well of course I followed suit, but unfortunately, the students presenting chose to beat the crap out of my eardrums and the sounds of "Raghupati Raghav" reverberated with the sound of drums beating against the membrane of my inner ear (XII standard Biology HL - A+ - pat pat eh ? ;) ) A boring monologue that lasted 30 miserable minutes of a guy dressed up in a khadi kurta and blabbering something that sounded more to impress the professor than show his true feelings or opinions - why, you ask ? Well you judge for yourself, if the guy actually states "Gandhi's doctrine of showing the other cheek if slapped on one should be applicable to the Kargil War" - OMG, how ignorant can one be ?! I'll let that pass too, since hypocrisy breeds in a lot of pockets here, but then if one of the curious members in the audience goes ahead and blurts out - "Gandhi was responsible for nearly half as many deaths as inflicted by Hitler", am sorry but I just lose it ! I am not a Gandhian or an anti-Gandhian for that matter, but there is a line which you need to draw between reasonableness and total arbitrary bull!

I chose to keep mum. Was the best policy. You can only reason amongst a bunch of people who understand what "listening" means - but apparently our young age extrovert junta (public) has forgotten to exercise the cochlean muscles :*sigh* - such a pity. The discussion ensued for a bit, nonsense corollaries were presented, to the height of Gandhi being called a selfish fool. Oh well, agreed some of his principles might not get us anywhere in today's cut throat egotistical existence, but we need to consider the context in which we adjudge him to be a fool or a Mahatma - nobody can be God - hell am an agnostic so no-bloody-one can ! ;) What surprised me was that how easy it was for all of us to judge a man who stood up for something, who had the balls to speak up, whatever be his motives. We often fret for our own sorrows and issues, not giving a rat's ass for the sufferings others go through. Where does our sense of judgement go then? The Mumbai blasts evoked national sentiment, then a headline in HT and TOI came that read something to the effect of - "one month hence, Mumbai goes back to normal and is coping with the horror of 26/11" - and voila, people rub their hands off the tension and their share of being compassionate or concerned is taken care of - "humne apni moral responsibility poori kar di hai bhai" (we have fulfilled our moral responsibility). Strange. Is this the same public which discards and demolishes the idea of Gandhi as a Mahatma for his want of being popular? Is this the same public which says that Gandhi was responsible for so many deaths and yet turns it face away after some time thanking God it wasn't them in the massacre or terrorist attack? I never thought benevolence or anything even remotely related to it was a prominent trait of us humans - but to realise the levels of hypocrisy we have reached - its a shame.

Wonder what authority we have to even embark upon a discussion of whether or not Gandhi was a Mahatma. Call it the whine of a young Indian, a complaint of the previous GenX, or a momentary lapse into a dying conscience, but this fact shook me a little - but as always, am gonna think over it for a bit, gulp down a paracetamol and go off to bed, praying not for the souls of those who got lost in the Mumbai attacks but for me to get well so that I can go sleep through my lectures tomorrow morning.

Forgot ..

Oh yes, there's another thing I love about Leuven - no Starfucks .. I mean Starbucks here !! :P

How it all starts ..

I am doing something very different this time around by skipping on fables of misery from Eindhoven and Maastricht, enroute Leuven. Why? Lets just say that there's more to tell on the wonderful time in Belgium, than there is to report on some weird and awkward experiences in Netherlands - and I couldn't keep my fidgety fingers from picking up the laptop and typing. From tall tales of "uh oh"s and "damn"s, this is a welcome change - for I want to let you all know what happens in this Flemish town of Leuven - I might be wrong but shut your piehole because Leuven sounds better presented that way!! :P

The horrors of the journey afresh, a closed series of stores just outside the station, and a nerve-wracking cold, the only thing keeping me from picking the next guy and yelling at him for no apparent reason was the need to get in touch with my friend so that she could dawn the guise of my fairy godmother, come and pick me up - of course not in a horse carriage made of pumpkins like Cinderella! Humans have a tendency to be abrupt in their neck movements, but when you're so bogged down, the energy barrier to get that sudden movement goes sky rocketing and instead you croon about as if your neck was a periscope of a Russian submarine. Left, right, up, down - nowhere could I locate a telephone shop - but then a sudden flash of lightning struck me - ah who am I kidding - it wasn't lightning of wisdom - 'twas my tummy grumbling so I went into Carrefour to pick up some grub. I think guys have either a huge mental block or they are genetically designed to be indecisive when it comes to basic stuff like food and clothes. After a 10-minute scrutiny of all the waffles in the line near the counter, I moved on ahead deciding against eating - well hullo - I was going to be eating with my friend - can't be an inconsiderate twit! Now the lightning struck - honestly it did - and I thought of asking the Carrefour counter if they had any GSM SIM cards - why did I use the word GSM in that question to him, I still don't understand - so after much confusion he gives me a Carrefour SIM card - I happily scratch it, insert it, switch my cellphone on - and voila - I have a signal!! BUT, like all cards, it needs to be registered so I have to send a text message. Instructions are in Dutch. Great.

I hurry back to the bloke, he tries hard to help me, to the extent that he forgets about the queue and instead starts reading and calling and messaging, with a disgruntled public mouthing grunts and sighs at him - what do I care - I got my very own Santa's lil helper working the problem. :) I do not mean to brag, but eventually my German proved more fluent than his Dutch and the mobile was officially online - congratulations you have 15 euros in your account! Woohoo.

After calling her up, I waited impatiently at the train station - I am very unreasonable at times and I do not know why but I expected her to be there to welcome me - how in gawd's name could she do that - she didn't even bloody know when I was coming - me and my 'great expectations' ! Oh boy is it a relief to see her walk from the distance. Home, finally. We walk, chat, I crib, she laughs, and I stand agape in front of the Stadhuis - not budging for a few seconds. We move on for some dinner - Amici Miei - an Italian restaurant - a favourite with "my friend and her band of merry maids" - talk bout "Robin Hood and his men in tights" being a funny title - beat this ! :P A Mexicana for me and a De blah blah for the lady, please, and could you also get us a bottle of red wine? Order placed, we catch up on stories. Me red with anger, she pink with laughter - oh da agony. Two wine glasses, the bottle comes and the guy pours some into her chalice - "would you like to taste the wine first?" - well it doesn't happen at a restaurant with a 'student menu' - so we're a little taken aback and *sip*, she tastes it. A frown. Looks upwards, shakes the head gently, looks my way, I taste and like a brute blurt out - "faltoo hai" (is crap) and make a piggy face - how dumb, I know. Well we order the house wine - a whole bottle of it, which is better than the previous one.

Awesome pizza, lovely wine, and a hearty meal later, we walk towards home. I guess the one thing I love about Leuven is how carefree you can be walking around, and how much fun it is to be in such a place with friends all around. They say physical attraction is superficial, but really, it could be the first step forward. Leuven's dynamism, and its liveliness left a mark, and that is how the Belgian affair started. ;) The second date is with Brussels, more on it later - right now have to rush off to meet my friend :)

When darkness turns to light ..

.. it ends tonight .. it ends tonight! Check-in - hurray !! "The plane is SUPPOSED to land here within 2 hours and HOPEFULLY we shall reach milan 5 hours from now" was the response I got from the check-in counter. What was the question you ask? "Hi, what time is the flight expected to land in Milan?". Simple isn't it ? Wonder why the suppositions and hopes were still a part of the answer I got, wasn't 8 hours enough of a buffer for the incompetence of Myair to be taken care of? Ah well, like any normal being, my follow up question was - "Well if the initial flight was supposed to take 1 hour 40 minutes, why is the new flight going to take double that time?!" - did the time-space continuum freeze for them, or is it because the God of Time is yawning in the morning so it gets stretched to the extent of making things happen doubly slow ? At this point in the conversation, in a cartoon a light bulb would have lit up on the lady's head as she understood the question, but that's cartoons, in reality what I got was an "I dunno" with a shrug of the shoulders and a "have a nice flight" with a pretentious smile - I don't care if am being obnoxious or negative - I deserve to be all that and even more especially after tonight!

I guess if its 5 hours from now, the connecting flight is screwed, lest it be late too following in the footsteps of this one. Totally exhausted and literally yawning while writing this post, I wonder what makes these people tick like clockwork - the enthusiasm is bubbling as if the Italians were waiting to get their hands on all the duty-free goodies. People buying boxes of Turkish delight, baklawa and what not - hell there's even a Turkish lady who now has 5 bags in her hand and is trying to control her 3 bratty grandkids! For want of change, and pretense, I amble into the duty-free shop, picking up colognes and trying them on, as a towering lady stands right next to me and out comes a heavy Turkish voice - "can I help you with anything?". When you're half asleep, groggy and pestered for the past so many hours, even the slightest of sounds feels like echoes in the head, and this one was like shouting in the Grand Canyon !! I get up with my reverberating ears, and drowsily walk back to my lappy to write this adieu.

Great - a woman just started the beep system because of a Red Bull - why would someone be so dumb to hand out a Red Bull to a friend outside without paying for it and ask if its cold enough - i thought cold was a binary expression -it is or it isn't !! Well when in Rome do what the Romans do, but when they're in Istanbul, never follow what the Romans do ! I do not know why but apparently the lady next to me seems really interested in my screen, am giving her a mention so that she can be happy reading while i write this.

There is a lot more to tell, especially on what happened just before and after check-in, but for now am praying I catch my flight from Milan on time, so that I can crash on the bed, and sleep all day long! Am sleepy, groggy, bored, tired and very angry, so I guess the funny is out the window, so no bad jokes - I bid adieu, till next time am conscious and in a frame of mind to complete the tale of the night that never ended - almost ;)

Word of advice ..

When waiting to pee, or writing a blog about peeing while not doing it, DO NOT listen to "driftwood" by travis! Reasons:

"floating"

"drifting into water"

"floating underwater"

"long long time"

"drifting now forever and forever more"

"you really didn't think it would happen"

"everyone has to go"

"but it really is the END OF THE LINE"

What is he trying - to figuratively deconstruct my attempt to control and make the pressure build up ?!?!?!

The good news is ..

.. that the flight is still 8 hours late, thankfully no more delays - I know, the dark humour that has become my life !! *sigh* After two of my friends laughing at me, one telling me to see the silver lining, and another telling me to "cheer up" - I think am pretty much at the stage right now to have a go at four bleeding noses in one hit ! The long drag back to the international departures section was not as simple as I had anticipated, especially with one hand busy moving the mouse on my open laptop so that the free internet does not go away if the lappy falls to sleep - technology - am telling you, it maketh numbnuts of us all !! So with the charging cord dangling and intent on trying its best to make me trip and fall, the lappy balancing on my right palm, the camera sliding off the left shoulder, and the heavy elephant on my back - stupid presents - for once felt like eating them myself and lightening the load ! But then again regular gymming pays off - is someone out there listening ?! :D

After dragging myself to the information desk, rather reluctantly I had just muttered the word "MY.." in a suppresed voice when pop came the magical words, as if it were something the snob behind the specs was proud off - "Sir you wait" - oh great so they DO know the word "Sir" as well ! Wonder why that makes me happy - think am holding on to every shred of hope too strongly. With drooping shoulders I turn, and sluggy back - yes its not a word, I invented it to describe the slow movement of a slug - now shuddup and read on. Well what do you know, the Devil's probably winning at chess in the heavens because even my place is gone - the one close to the power socket. Ah but there is a catch - like in every fairy tale, I have a fairy godmother too - the masticating cow - no offence to her, apparently liked me better in that place and what I believe, or would like to believe is what she told the guy was to get lost as I was there first - I smile, and cozy up to the cold, uninviting floor - ironical eh ?

I know at this stage I should not really be choosy, and make do with whatever the airport has to offer me, but believe me you - the worst part in such a situation is when you have to pee. I know, I know, why the sudden fetish for pee posts - I cannot help it - its an important human function and its cold - so live with it ! So as I was saying, the pee, yes, to pee is one of the worst feelings, in this situation, and am having it right now. Why bad? Why BAD ?! You try walking in with the elephants and an open laptop with dangling wires - now there's even headphones attached - oh da glory ! How the hell am I supposed to follow "Dear passenger, kindly take care of your luggage and personal belongings at all times", when the urge to pee is there, the necessity to keep the lappy awake, and the anxiety to keep an eye on my luggage ?!

Time for another break, will gather all my stuff and go get the sweet release of osmoregulation - hey I can't use the word pee too much - let this post maintain some sort of decency ! Till we meet next - au revoir - yes there is going to be another meeting - still under 2 hours to check-in.

Why does it always happen to me ?

Yes, patronise me on whining and I swear I'll give you a bleeding nose in no more than 5 seconds! Sitting on the floor of a filthy airport with my legs crossed and painful, on a cold evening, does NOT leave me in a happy frame of mind. An 8 hour delayed flight, a misinformed information desk whose only English vocabulary apparently is "You wait!!", an Italian stylist who just cannot stop his "mama mia" from sucking my brains out through the ear with the straw-of-a-mouth he's got !! Why am I on the floor ? Am glad you asked - well because there is no friggin' power point except for the lobby ! The lady in the small convenience store right next to where I have camped for the night has been masticating - yes, masticating NOT chewing on her gum for the past 20 minutes and staring at me as if am some sort of experiment God's having on frustration levels. Okay, the lady might not be thinking that, but hell I feel like that hamster toddling on the giant wheel right now - the vicious bloody circle !! Am hungry, so hang on while I try to get some grub with the measly change I have in my pocket - stay tuned.

Oh sweet mother of all that is good and pure - food - at last. The glucose melts on my tongue as the sugary bit satisfies the craving within. What am I having - the cheapest biscuits available which I believe only kids have because of the high sugar content. Don't judge me, that bloody nose is still very much possible, and what do you expect from someone who has only 2.65 YTL to spare ?! A few girls just walked by, laughing, dare they mock me !! You better wipe that snug smirk off your face too or else don't say that you didn't see it coming ! Anyways, back to the venting - so, here I am, and I think my left foot has already gone numb and the right one is following closely, to give it company - blimey !! I know, have been watching too much of Brit comedy lately, so the effects will show - ignore :) As I stay put in one position, think the pain will eventually fade away, even it will get bored after some point of time.

I would have loved to say that when you are sitting on the ground, just observing, you can appreciate the little things at the airport that we usually ignore - but no, when you're on the floor, you get disgusted with how unclean it is, and the crawling insects that just might get into you baggage, and the irritating sound of women walking right across in high heels !! I am a bitter, bitter man - so put a sock in it and read on. 23:55 is what my watch reads - still 5 hours to go *sigh* . I have noticed one thing though, the Turks seem to have lost their cool knowing the flight is delayed by a whopping 8 hours, but the Italians seem pretty cool about it - not to be prejudiced in any way, but are they actually aware of such delays - makes me wonder about the horrors I am up for the next week of visiting Italy after Belgium. I am going to Belgium - yay !! :) The cleaning guy on his motor ride just waved at me - not to ask me to move - but as a gesture of acknowledgment that my bum is helping him clean the floor - oh da humanity !!

Think that is enough for the current update - feels like an aeon has passed and am identifying with Tom Hanks in Cast Away. Wait for more - shortly ;)

The time, forgotten

There will be a time when the existence of man shall be questioned and held accountable for the horrors inflicted on several innocent souls, but until that day of reckoning comes, our conscience beckons, reminding us of the need for humanity and compassion.  

Today, with my 49th post on this blog, I am not going to relate to you a funny anecdote but go full circle to the beginnings of this blog, the reason the "why" arose.  Life relates to us several tales, some etch into our memories, others drive the adrenalin up, and eventually fizz away into nothingness.  A fizz is what bubbled into the intertwined deliberations - the random ramblings that evolved over the past two years and more.  But in public interest am not going to walk down memory lane and reminisce.  Instead, I'll celebrate this pre-golden jubilee post for myself, by giving it the post it deserved - something that has been etched in memory for more than 9 years and was renewed this month during my visit to Munich, and never had the potential of fading away.

Political correctness has not been my forte, so before I start, my apologies to anyone who might be offended in any way with what I talk about.  Dachau - one of the first concentration camps in Germany, was established near Munich, which Steffi - my friend whose place I crashed at, drove me down to, on a chilly autumn morning.  Whatever experts may say, I refuse to believe that global warming caused that day to be especially cold - it felt like winter had set in - the nose numb. Drooling. Everyone taking out their taschnetucher (paper napkin) and blowing their noses in.  The ears about to drop off, the lips parched - not for lack of moisture, but the moisture on them being frozen into icicles.  I dare not imagine what a tongue would have gone through had it been on a popsicle that day!  We could not make an early start since last night had been rather tiring and the beers did not help with the alarm either.  Surprisingly for 11:30, the fog is still very thick - a dense grey set in the outskirts, visibility low.  In the car it didn't cross either of our minds what that gloomy weather meant for us.  We simply drove on, reached, and made our way to the audio guides section. 

This has been my second visit to a concentration camp, the first one being Mauthausen, on the outskirts of Vienna.  I will not advertise.  I will not coax you into going there.  I won't elaborate on what I saw either.  However, what I will tell you is the chill that ran down my spine, when I saw the line of 24 barracks in continuation that seemed to disappear into the horizon with no end in sight.  I will tell you about the design that won an award - and how that death seemed less painful than what would have been inflicted.  The more we glorify or condemn something, the more renowned something becomes, the faster it loses impact.  Dachau was different.  No cafes, no restaurants.  No souvenir shop, or marketing gimmick.  The grey abode stood there, amidst civilisation - people going in to work everyday, letting it drift into history - unnoticed, uncelebrated.  

I won't elaborate on my conversations with Steffi either, for they were wonderful - and any attempt on my part to reiterate them to you would simply not do justice to the ideas we discussed, the perspectives we got.  By afternoon, the chill had grown into a windy storm, as the breeze grew wilder, edging us on to the next exhibit in line.  What was supposed to be a 2-3 hour trip took longer - we were engrossed - not in the horrors - but in something more abstract  - the feeling - the empathy was prominent - the sympathy lingering.  Exiting the museum, we entered the barracks - the bunk beds - reminds you of "Life is Beautiful" - the movie, but not so much the horrors - we could not help but think that in probably in another hour we would be home, sipping on hot cocoa or coffee, while not 60 years ago here lay men, awaiting - not death, but the morning horn for headcount, shivering, unaware what came with the next sunrise.  

If you expect from me an elaboration on what I saw, a condemnation of Hitler's tyranny, this is not the intent of this post.  It is just one elaboration - an attempt at it - to tell you that it isn't a Romantic's idea to experience pain and suffering when going to such a place, but a common man's compassion that brings him to realise the need for love amongst humans.  It might seem all too far fetched, preachy and exaggerated - more like a work of drama, but the presence, the gravel under your feet echoes into your head - without permission - of the untold horrors.   

Five o'clock in the evening approaches and we make our way as the last tourists to leave the premises - happy to get out of the depressing state the camp put us in, content to be able to get in the car, switch the heater on and warm ourselves, happy that in today's times we feel secure. But as Steffi sped on to the highway, I cleared the fog from the window with my jacket, looked into the distance as the tin sheets shattered in the strong wind but the trees lining the camp stood still - the silence echoing in history - "never again", disappearing round the curb to join the evening commuters into Munich.

Not a moment's peace

Reminiscing of an old Indian fable, a wise man - Birbal - from the court of ministers of the great Mughal emperor Akbar, was once asked by the ruler what was the most relaxing and satisfying human emotion? A very simple question, yet it sent the entire court in a tussle between gratitude, benevolence, and what not - everyone trying to show off their "humane" side.  Birbal, being his wise self chose to maintain silence and requested the emperor that he be allowed to demonstrate his answer.   The emperor aware of Birbal's wit willingly agreed, hoping to learn the answer the fun way.  

In the dead of night Birbal came banging to the emperor's chamber requesting his company on a journey across the river.  The emperor reluctantly agreed, sensing the urgency in Birbal's voice.  The river waters gushed calmly, the fog set in, the visibility was low, and there anchored along the shore afloat was a rowboat - but nobody to row it.  Unfamiliar with such inconvenience the emperor quizically looked at Birbal expecting an explanation, but the wise man just smiled and got onto the boat assuring the emperor he would not have to row.  Three quarters of an hour into the journey, the cold was taking its toll, Birbal rowed at a leisurely pace, and the emperor grew restless.  Eventually he gave in and pleaded with Birbal to row faster as he had to pee.  Birbal with his usual smile informed that they were in the middle and going either way would take at least another three quarters of an hour.  He suggested that the emperor satisfy his urge in the river itself.  The idea was outrageous to the emperor brought up with such etiquette and he categorically denied any such improper act.  Another quarter of an hour passed and the restlessness became unbearable, and the emperor became impatient, the wise man still smiling and rowing.  He eventually gave in and threw all his apprehensions out the boat (window :P) letting out a sigh of relief - with a voice in the background saying "sire, this is the most satisfying human emotion" - a hearty laugh followed and they both rowed back home. 

Why? Because its a good story but more so since I realised its importance not two days ago.  Leaving the gym, I calculated that if I hurried I could catch the minibus in time and not wait for the next one to leave in 15 minutes.  Had to pee but thought, a 5 minute ride against a 15 minute wait, I could hold on for some time.  So I ran to catch the minibus - made it just in time ! :) Couldn't get a seat so kept shifting my weight from one leg to the other, bobbing forwards and backwards just to keep the pressure from building.  Could have made a good club dance move any other day, but all that occupied my mind then was - "just 2 more minutes .. 119 seconds .. 118 .. 117 .. 115 .. 110 .." - yeah I was skipping seconds, because believe it or not, if you are waiting, and you KNOW you're gonne be free of the 'tension' in a few seconds, the pressure builds up even more.  So instead of the usual baritone of "Acarlar" to request the driver to halt, a squeak came out, and I hurried off the minibus, brisk walking back to my apartment, hands trembling and missing the keyhole twice. I finally got in.  

No no no - how can life be THAT easy ?! I open the door and the phone rings - "hello .. hello .. hellooooooooo" - nobody answers - why would someone bother someone already in a hurry - ack !! So I continue on walking like a penguin by this time, and before I could reach the shining white ceramic, the cellphone rings - on vibration mode - what was luck trying to do - kill me ?! I take the bloody thing out and its one of my friends calling about meeting up - so I take the call, and in  a stressed tone - talking more like a Robert de Niro or a Marlon Brando in the Godfather fix up a time and disconnect - hey don't judge me to be rude - I was under a lot of pressure - literally ! I reach the door - glowing, inviting, turn the handle - locked! I turn again - still locked - why oh why ?! "Am in here KG" comes a voice from inside - its one of my flatmates ! Oh bloody hell !! Fortunately we have two restrooms, so I hurry off to the other one - now that one has not been designed for guys pee'in - the lid keeps falling down - so got to adjust that first - 2 more minutes of misery - that taken care of - okay I will save you the details, thankfully for you, but lets just say, even the zipper played spoilt sport that day, and another 5 minutes later only could I go "oh dear heaven on earth" - and the sigh of relief !! :)

I know a lot of people would identify with this experience but would deny it all the same ! :) Never again am I gonna go for a 10 minute time saver and have 10 minutes of misery - the 15 minute wait it shall be ;)

Kudos!!

This new look is Pramod's work on a sleepless night at 5 a.m. with me eating his head :) This post marks 2008 as the year with maximum posts on my blog - so kudos to me too ! :P

Cheers!

The Orange Juice Project

For the uninitiated, this is not a vain attempt at promoting Orange nectar for Cappy.  It is in fact an attempt at doing justice to the melody woven by three great performers on a memorable night, when a lot of people lost their "jazz virginity". :)  In a country that loves its history and folk music, it does not come as a surprise that the turn-up for the Kerem Gorsev performance was more than overwhelming.  Jazz might not feature as the prominent trend-setter in my country but it was heartening to see so much enthusiasm bubbling in the crowd, though I do realise a lot of them were excited about the free wine outside, just before the concert.   I know, because I missed out on it - damn, knew working out in the gym was going to bite me on the arse some time or the other!    

The best part of going to a concert is to have company, and I now know how amazing it feels to be hanging out with a group, and how happiness can be infectious.  We rushed in, booking rows of seats for each other, jackets on seats, sweaters, jerseys, bags, hell I even kept a pen to mark my territory! ;) And then like agents, negotiating who gets to sit where, fending off unwelcome guests, bargaining on blocks of seats so that the entire MBA batch could sit together.  Finally, after a tussle for 15 minutes, we all were there, seated cozily in our seats, only to realise those on the other side would have been a better catch, but who the hell cares as long as we are almost up front.  What was to ensue in the next one and a half hours was what could have melted an avalanche into a rivulet that tinkled through the mountains in the calmest of forests.  

A prelude with "My mind", the group broke into a melancholic tussle between the piano and the drums - fighting for control, as the notes wove in and out with varying speeds and pitch.  When the piano set in with its sedation, the drums would jump in with a nerve-racking rhythm that would make the feet automatically start tapping.  The music would entice you, draw you forward from your relaxed position, as you rest your chin between your folded hands resting on your knees, ever intent, and waiting for that sudden cliffhanging moment in the song when you'd almost carry on in the trance and be caught by surprise.  At the end of the first song, think Marisa read my thoughts when she said, "what would be ideal right now is a glass of wine" - for such panache deserves the class of an audience that knows its wine ;)

If the melancholy got us drawn in, the next piece of "Respect" switched gears into the realm of the subconscious - a humdrum fell and a monotonous beat filled the air, the pianist dissolved and the entire room went into the subliminal.  Nobody blinked for hundreds of seconds together, the composer bobbing his head back and forth gently, as if possessed spiritually into a higher form of existence.  Elevated.  As he pressed the closing note on the composition, a silence persisted, he remained seated, head bowed down, and as he rose, the applause broke the pin-drop calmness for the first time.   The ode to calmness came in the next performance, as he related to us the story of a 1923 black and white movie  in Turkish, and dedicated the next song "Serenity" to it.  Serenity was followed with "Sunrise" and though both elucidate contrasting feelings, am going to try and explain the fervour they created in the same key-strokes.  

With a flourish of the hands, the drummer from USC, a graduate, smiling, sweat trickling off his bald head, he opens Sunrise and plays an innings of a lifetime, something even Bach and Beethoven would have paid homage too, and such is his grasp on the audience that the transition to the piano is applauded with a standing ovation from the audience.  If Sunrise belonged to the drums, Serenity was nestled in the emphatic bass, the stringed lurker in the background who came to the fore with a scintillating pluck-and-hold presentation with the 5 stringed bass.  Smiles passed in glances between all three, an acknowledgement of prowess and how each one felt honoured to be playing in the others' company.  Majestic, truly unbelievable.

Like all albums, the title song had to be embedded in the middle, and likewise, it was time "Orange Juice" was played - a flurry of notes danced on the symbols of the drummer, slid through the strings of the bass, ending up on the piano deck, as the three created the masterpiece for the evening, the high-note, the ode to the evening of joy and celebration.  The audience caught on, commotion brewed up as we swayed a little, had to remember a jazz concert does not necessarily require a head-bobbing acknowledgement like a rock concert does ;)  "I remember your face" and "Long Way" wound up the evening as the same nimble and deft touches to the instruments induced in them an orgasm that lasted in people's memories for days to come.  

A night to remember, and yet I still feel haven't done justice to what the ears were treated to that night :)

PS The photograph posted is my notes for the night :)

The tequila night *hic*

As a disclaimer to this post I would like to mention just for the record that I do not usually get drunk and on this night also do not expect any antics from me. Besides, why would I ever put them up on this page - don't you get enough gags out of my other misfortunes? :| Its been quite some time so I do not remember the exact details, but I do clearly recollect the offer of the best Starbucks made to me by Emre - the one in Bebek - "its gonna be fun" he said, and in my fascination with the easy Turkish way of life, I agreed.  

Amidst Turkish chitter-chatter we drove down to Bebek and an hour later, my bum was relieved to be taken out of its pancake position.  It wouldn't be

ideal, I thought, at this point to tell the guys am hungry - for you do not say that in front of the Turks else they make sure you get stuffed like a lamb before sacrifice ! :| Trust me, I've been stuffed once too often ;) So there I stood, my tummy rumbling, growling and scowling at me to blurt the magic words of "yemek" out (yemek in Turkish means food)!! But I think my conscience got the better of me as I stay put, in my unbroken silence.  However, this is where my ego swoops in and tells me "it ain't all your fault you know" - and that is when I reason out that its coz of everyone speaking Turkish around me that I kinda feel a lil left out at times - don't blame them, but that doesn't help either - yes this is for you, my Turkish friends - TALK IN ENGLISH .. puhleeeeze :P 

Back on track, Emre announces that he has to take of since he has to take Esra to a friend's birthday party, so we all go in together into a restaurant .. not Starbucks, but a bar cum restaurant - seems expensive from the looks of it.  There she is sitting in a corner, Ceyda, happily munching away at her pasta and sipping on some red wine.  We join her, exchange greetings, and move in to a larger table.  Time to place the orders people.  Hmm, now what should I have I wonder.  Its not like I have been a big time non-veggie for so long or that am a connoisseur of food, so Arda suggests the Thai shrimp thingy pasta.  I don't know better so the shrimp it is.  And we wait.  Talking of past relationships, cultural differences, funny anecdotes, and whatever boohawkey comes to mind.  Finally, the orders arrive and we dig in - my travails with the shrimp are a story to be told of another day, and probably another place, but the night dissolved into the subliminal as we kept talking and sharing laughs, a few clicks and it was time to wrap up and head back home.  

The bill paid, we moved out into the streets, to be drenched in showers, of all the days, you just had to pick this one to rain.  A few more clicks, hugs and punches on the arm later, we found ourselves in one of the small departmental stores still open at the 11th hour of the night.  I frankly do not remember the transition from the restaurant to the store, and that black out ends in me holding a bottle of Fosters and agreeing to having drinks at Ceyda's place - so much for a decent coffee at Starbucks :P  As a side note, I have been told if you have Fosters in Turkey you're considered a doof, and tis better to go for the local Efes.  Getting back to the story, the beers in hand, we were paying, when out of "Turkish nowhere" the offer of a tequila night comes about and we all agree! :) 

I know by this point in the blog you are more or less just waiting for the controversies brought to life by the tequila to surface and for me to shut up about the rest.  But I am sorry my friend, like we decided, what happens at the table, stays at the table - can't break the bro code now can I ? :) Let it suffice that I had an amazing night, and am never sleeping next to either Caglar or Arda ever again ! :P Fret not my friend for though you did not get your kicks out of me having a great night with no mishaps, the next morning proved to be more to your taste than to mine.  At 8 in the morning, I woke up with a rush realising I had a lecture to attend at 9:30.  I tip-toed across the apartment and put on my shoes, left a thank-you note for Ceyda and quietly closed the door behind me only to go "doh" exactly in Homer Simpson style, remembering that I forgot my glasses inside! :(  Although am not blind without my glasses, but a hangover from last night, and a woozy head did not help out either as I walked with the support of the side-rungs of the staircase and found my way out like a blind man.  

Out into the streets the light from the sun overwhelmed my pupils and I think they went into hiding.  Somehow I stumbled up the climb of Medyakent and reached the bus-stop.  A wait for 5 minutes convinced me that the bus would not be coming and its better to just walk up to Acarlar.  Reaching the gates of the familiar residential complex after about 7-8 minutes of stumbling and wishing for an aspirin, a sigh of relief.  Alas, my stories never end in me smiling, and there they stood - energetic and ready to pounce on the word "go" - the pack of dogs, who appeared no less fierce than wolves.  They sprang after me and launched themselves into overdrive on the uphill climb, and worst of all instead of biting me and ending the misery they taunted and mocked me, ran next to me barking, laughing at the fact that I was desperately trying not get bitten on the arse! :| There you have it - another reason for you to increase your RBC count and for me to feel like a complete dork ! :|

The tequila night happened - am glad it did, opened me up a lot with my friends, never looked back after that - oh come on you want me to end this blog with such bull?! :P Just go home and have a laugh again imagining me being chased by a pack of dogs you lousy freaks ! :P Adios.  

Got change?

While I write this post am all the more wiser having already been in Istanbul for more than a week. What fascinates most people is the fact that being an Indian I do not look any different from the Turks, thus the obvious language problem gets obviated and it is presumed that I would be fluent in Turkish, let alone know it!  But that is not what this post is going to be about - the trivialities of linguistic placement.  Minibuses usually ply between two places here at Koc and the surrounding areas, especially Sariyer.  After much haggling at the dorm office I had finally been allotted a room in the Acarlar area, but more about that once I shift in.  Like the past two times, I was supposed to board the minibus, say the name of the place, and hand in 1 YTL -

 no more, no less was the job prescribed to me in order to avoid any embarrassment on part of not understanding the language.  

I have always had a fascination for front seats, used to be the whiny kid who always fought for the front seat in the car, no matter whose car it was.  Why would it be any different for a bus, especially given the fact that Koc rests on a hill top and the view is amazing as you go down the slope.  Luckily the minibus starts off from the campus itself, so there I was having taken care of the routine 1 YTL payment, sitting comfortably on the front seat.  I had managed to grab the front seat the first time too, but then the bus was virtually empty. After a 5 minute wait the bus started inching out from the bay on to the university roads.  A content smile snuck up on my face - reason you ask ? Well of course if you manage to get something done hassle free in a foreign land, the sense of accomplishment is overwhelming :)  If you're a regular visitor to this blog, by now you would DEFINITELY have guessed that things are about to take a turn ;) 

Two minutes into the ride, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and as I turned to check out who it was, before I knew it a scarfed lady in her late forties shoved 1.40 YTL into my hand and mumbled something in Turkish with a smile.  I did not know how to react. Was she paying me coz I look cute ? *highly unlikely* Was she cuckoo? I could not come up with any plausible reason as to why she would give me money.  I held on to the coins firmly clutched in my sweaty palm, sweaty out of anxiety as to what those coins were doing in the palm of my hand.  Before long another passenger did the same and this time it was just a YTL, friggin' cheap bastard, I thought to myself.  The anxiety grew as a third passenger followed suit.  I could feel the copper of the coins melt into the sweat and leave a metallic odour that was making me nauseous.  By this time I hadn't noticed but those standing had been staring at me with fixated eyes as if accusing me of ignorance.  You could have imagined my face at the verge of a mental breakdown just trying to answer the simple question - WHY ME ?! 

An old man was kind enough to tell me in broken English that the money was supposed to be handed over to the driver.  Why the hell didn't that strike me before ?! *slams forehead* So I handed over the money to the driver, as if clearing my hands of a cursed treasure, and finally drew a breath of relief.  The embarrassment was still there, but what the heck, the awkward moment was over!  Alas, life never screws you just once, so the driver turns and asks me what I can only imagine is the destination of the people who gave me the money is.  As if handing over wasn't enough, how was I supposed to remember their freakin' names ?! He started talking loudly and what I can imagine was Turkish swear words.  At this point of time my instincts got taken over by fear, and I got off at the next bus-stop not caring where the hell it was!  Turns out Emlak Konut isn't far off from Acarlar, discovered it walking all the way uphill that day :P

Sometimes I really wonder why is it that I hafta get a kick out of MISadventures while all others have anecdotes to tell with OTHERS making a fool of themselves.  Ah well feed on my misfortunes you leeches! My day will come soon ! ;)

Das Fremde

No matter how much you travel all your life, there is bound to be an experience that borders on the forgettable, a phase at least of an adventure which you'd much rather forget as soon as possible. I guess it is more striking while you're going through it, and probably in the future when you look back, might just not look that big a deal to you. Yet as the moment persists, the ensuing agony of having to drag through every day, lie in bed aimlessly all night in anticipation of a change in the way things are to the way you'd like them to be, is what gets to you in the end. Contrary to common perception, I always thought that being a new comer to a foreign land had its own share of adventure. Little did I know what had been store in this small Pandora's box along the coast of the Black Sea :)

But I won't go into the details of the misadventures this time round, I have cribbed about them all day, have sworn off the people responsible to the deepest realms of hell, cursed the day I chose this uni, and now no more. I sat down post-dinner contemplating why I should persist in this place. The reasons were galore but trust me if you move your luggage 4 times in a single evening to places 4 kilometres away from each other, logic does not really get to you. Frustration built up and the urge to chuck it all and go back to India grew - to be able to lay in mom's lap, a good night's sleep at home, a fun fight with my bro, all comes rushing back to you. But in that moment you realise its these things that drive you forward - the ability to have a good time, with everyone. I might not have had the greatest one week in Istanbul thus far, mostly coz of the acco problems, but hey, its a long 4 months - who knows ;)

This blog just came out since I wanted others to know that not every journey is an adventure, shit happens. Not everything you set out for goes your way, but the key remains persistence, for it is in times of shit that the deo shines ;) Will keep you all posted as and when the (mis)adventures of yours truly ensue - for now lets just rest it at a humble post ;) Wotsay ? :P

Hey, my blog, my feelings, bugger off if you're not interested :) Cheers !

TK 1071

They say that an uneventful flight never stays in memory, and its the little anecdotes that make you remember them for ages. They also say that what becomes of your flying experience depends almost 90% on the person sitting next to you, and the remaining 10% I tend to believe is how accessible the loo is for you ;) Well if I were to go by what people say, I'd be in my grave right now, for 90% of my journey was a dusty old hag who would have done a better role than Jim Carrey in The Grinch who stole Christmas, and the remaining 10% seemed oddly inconvenient as both the loos were blocked with food trays! Anyways, lets not spoil the surprise by revealing tid-bits of the 'happy journey'.

Now I'm not one to judge immediately, well am not one anymore, but something odd seemed in the people lined up for the check-in counter for Turkish Airlines. Contrary to my expectation, the Indians didn't even spare this country, well at least that was what was apparent from the queue. Suddenly, during my contemplation on whether to pity or detest these souls, pop comes a girl with a bushy hairdo, as if the glue available in the sarkari post offices was used to stick them to her head, and walks up to me asking if I was a new addition. Well don't be surprised, those were the exact words used by her, and trust me I still do not know new addition to WHAT ?! I simply declined, for I could make out from her demeanour that she had one of those misplaced superiority complexes whereby you tend to think that because you're studying in a foreign university, India is proud of you! :P Time wailed by, crawling at a snail's pace, as I reached my turn in the queue when the eyes light up looking at the two only passengers in front of me before I check-in and get the overweight baggage hassle over with. Alas, did I say life's that simple ?! Well of course not, so in walk these two south Indian students with the very bush-hair witch, after what I can only imagine was concocting some potion to turn all the passengers into frogs! Apparently, these great minds of India who were spreading the good name abroad were not 1, not 2 but 35 kilograms overweight in baggage ! Yes I know, I sense it too, you're not really interested in what happened at the check-in counter, its the 90% flight journey that's keeping you interested ain't it ? ;) Okay will cut to the chase, but before I do, just one thing needs a special mention here. If I ever find that fat-ass-hairy-faced-chocolate-brown-muffin-munching-good-for-nothing nincompoop who left his hand baggage at the security checking, I'm gonna pulverise him into nothingness, for it was his negligence that delayed the flight by 1.5 hours!

Hey don't ask me what the negligence was, you're the one who's been pushing for the in-flight story! Anybody interested to know the details may do so by asking me after the story is over, till then shut your piehole and read .. err .. listen :) After a sleepless mosquito ridden bout at the waiting lounge, I finally board the plane. In the meantime I had spotted a very sweet and sultry Turkish girl, I had hoped would be in seat 16A, to finally have someone worthwhile to talk to! I slowly approached the economy class, business class bastards all sleeping in their cozy huge chairs ! Hoping not to have an Indian worse come to worse, I reached 16B - my seat, with my right eye closed, unable to bear the shock of discovering who it might be sitting beside me. With the left eye still open, I glanced around to see who all would form the focus of my annoyance aboard this flight. Nice crowd, I said to myself. The time of reckoning had come, the right eye had to do the honours of breaking the suspense as to who or rather what lay in store for me just a few centimetres away - would I be fighting for the shared armrest, or would I be wanting to share the armrest ? :P The revelation would have to be sudden, like ripping off a band-aid. *Poof* - there it lay, a big ball of blanket, shifting a little, trying to adjust underneath. Still no clue as to who it was I was sitting next to. So I let the ball be, leaving it up to fate to decide whether to bring out an ogre from underneath or Snow White. ;)

No, the break in paragraph does not mean an end to the story of the lump. This is just a small digression to give a short glimpse of my typical Indian brethren who fail to understand what the word co-operation means. I had a rucksack as cabin baggage, appeared huge, but just had my laptop bag inside. Unfortunately, I was the dumb one to have waited his turn to board the plane while the others had hogged all overhead bins. Swoooosh opens the overhead bin for 16A and 16B, a backpack and a laptop bag lie there, as if in a cozy hose with a bonfire lit to keep them warm - that's not how cabin baggage is supposed to be - its supposed to be crammed up in a barn full of pigs!! So I scooch the laptop bag over a little to make some space. A humming voice of a concerned Indian appears - "Woh mera hai" - to which I was gonna reply - "Maine kab kaha mera hai", but thought otherwise. I acknowledged his claim to possession and explained that I was just making space and that his bag would not have to suffer any undue pain. This explanation was given in the most polite vocabulary you can expect from a person who has been up all night and now had to make space in an airliner that would have made gliders in Indian Airlines look like jumbo jets ! The next move was for the backpack, and once the voice, which also had ears realised the bag was being shifted too, the pitch increased and the concern grew - and something of an argument to the following effect came out - "If you move my laptop, then since everyone has a unique laptop, mine will get lost" - do not ask me what it meant, do not ask me why that sentence ever came into existence, because I know not, and I want to believe that my sanity was intact that day! So the story of the painful whiner ends here, now let me get a sip of my Ice Tea before I go on writing further - I'd suggest you get hold of some popcorn too, just in case :)

Unwilling to slog it out with the pain in the ass moron, I shoved the rucksack into the next available empty bin, and cozied up into my seat, having lost track of trying to figure out who it was next to me. Now like all surprises, shocks also have the habit of coming to you when you're least ready. So I snuggle into the seat, fasten the seat belt, and scooch in under my blankey, hoping to fall asleep without further ado. Sleep, did I say I wanted to sleep? Probably gawd was in no mood to act the perfect angel, because by sheer force of pure evil there crept out from inside 16A, the cryptkeeper herself - shrewd hair, as if chewn on by rats from hell themselves, and a voice that would have brought on another mating season for frogs, she yelped out for water. There went my 90% bet on the lottery down the drain :( A determination to sleep through the entire journey grew in force, as the armrest no longer seemed worth fighting for either, lest the old hag cast a spell and turn me into one of her frogs!

I have a lot of things in life to complain about, but the actual plane and food have never featured on that list, well at least not till that fateful morning of the 26th. I've flown the lone plane in and out of Guyana, South America, but nothing compared to this aircraft - a 2X4X2 seater, a Boeing 737, I guess, with a TV screen on the dividing wall, the plane seemed too morose even for a local Indian domestic airliner. I made my peace with that, but if you can't even accommodate a lanky 52 kiloed (disclaimer: I had been ill for 3 days before the flight - hence the weight) guy in your seat, I can only wonder what lay in store for the chunk of meat dawdling next to me, and letting out an unsettling odour, I can only imagine was coming from her hair! Still doable, I compromised. Hungry, my eyes kept sifting through alleys, a little rise from the seat, a bobbing if the head sideways to check if the pantry trolley budged from its place, not to find out when the food was to arrive, but to pee. The eyes never stopped looking and the trolley never moved. So much for Paolo Coelho's verdict! :( A different trolley did, however, appear over the horizon of lost hope - to drown my tears, I'd expected to find solace in food. "I'll go for the vegetarian" - now why in gawd's friggin' name I went ahead and said that still remains an unsolved mystery to me - so there lay on my tray a sealed paper tray with the words "VEG ASW" stuck on top. ASW - hmm - I wonder. It wasn't until I opened up the tray that I realised what those initials meant - All the Shit in this World!! For how do you expect a normal person to gobble an entire serving of potatoes that seemed to have rotted their way to darkening, rice that seemed to have been a poor man's reject, and fruits that seemed to have been reborn from under Egyptian tombs for fruit mummies?!?! After slurping down two coffees to get rid of the shock series I had been training for all day, came the tantrum of the trip. "I did not get a bun! Where is my bun!" - if that were a 5 year old whining, I'd understand but if the dustball next to you croaks that out in a coarse voice that'd cause landslides half way across the world, and then accompanies it with what I imagine were profanities in Turkish "shlalom blachoi" or something like that, you kind of lose that little peace of mind you had stowed away in some corner of your head for emergencies like this ;) The drama ensues for another 5 minutes. Eyepads my ass, bring on the ear plugs I say - those are the need of the hour !! :( In the end, no grub turned up, no bun no fun she said, and shoved her plate into the hostess' hands.

You'd like to think that would be the end of the ordeal, wouldn't you? I have lived through things, done things over the past 3 days, people wouldn't imagine doing in an entire lifetime, but that all will have to wait for another post, for its getting late, and I have lectures tomorrow! On a closing note, here's what you do when flying Turkish Airlines - half an hour before landing start slapping yourself to warm up those cheeks and have a ringing sound in your ears, take a chewing gum, 2 would be better, and start chewing like a cow doing the entire jaw workout, ask for two bottles of water, one for drinking during the next half hour - make sure you finish it - its part of the flight ticket you paid for, and the second bottle is for the weak bowel sitting next to you in case she decides to hurl like the one next to me did ! :( For this is how the pilot apparently views a landing - you drop vertically 100 feet, then you go horizontal for another 100, and keep repeating till the cabin pressure is about to give way and the overhead oxygen masks about to drop. At this point if all the blood in your body has gone up to your head, it means you are alive, else you have most probably passed out and puked near your fellow passenger's feet. ;(

You know what the worst part of this entire story is? The fact that I have to go back with Turkish Airlines only! :(

Curiosity

I know it killed the cat, and that at this point of time I should be more worried about my upcoming term-end exams and that freak-of-a-20-page pending report I still have to work on, but I guess like all curiosities in a horror movie, this one gets the better of me too. Reading up on an article, a little out of the way than usually you come across, cyber crimes - I realised most of what was covered by media, let me correct myself here, ALL of what has been reported to date ever since its advent, has been a single file charade with one species at the middle of it - men.

Online dating, chat rooms, communities on public networking sites, seem to have become breeding grounds for these perverts, an easy access ground to catch hold of an unsuspecting and vulnerable prey. End result - people become sceptical, raise an eyebrow to whatever comes out of such 'friendships'. Even to the extent that more often than not if I go around telling my friends, "Oh I know this person from Orkut", a certain chill ensues through the room, and a look of disgust and "How could you!!" surrounds the gathering. I know it is a lil presumptuous on my part to totally annul such scepticism, however, I have, or rather tried never to be a proponent of hypocrisy. I'll be honest, a lot of my friends, who have really understood me and been in touch for longer periods of time have been made online. Most of them I haven't even met as yet, funnily enough. But then again, am fortunate enough to be choosy while picking friends and in the end have made everlasting friendships - yeah fellahs this one goes out to you - you ROCK ! :)

This might seem to be a devil's advocate posting in favour of online friendships, most possibly, but I'd only do that if Orkut or the like paid me to do so, I don't write for charity! ;) What drew my curiosity was the fact that it was always a stalker, never a stalkress (if such a word actually exists), a pervert, never a pervertress. Is it simply not possible that a girl be hauling guys over the internet dating sites and playing foul?! Or is it they've been doing it and with great efficiency, never to be caught even once?! Or is it, as a male chauvinist would put it, that they never get reported? Do not take this post wrongly, it is not a sexist obnoxious attack on women, on the contrary, it is a question that have been thinking about for the past hour. How exactly is a girl able to judge which guy is authentic online? How can she tell that the person across the terminal, probably on the other side of the world is a genuinely decent guy? PS: All the girls out there, do not answer my question, never know a jackass might be reading my blog ;)

It might seem to be a very irrelevant and inconsequential question to most of you out there, but it probably makes you realise how fickle a relationship could be, one minute you could trust the person completely and the next *poof* its all gone, just like magic. But hey, life wasn't meant to be without risks, and am glad I've taken a lot of risks, and I mean a LOT! ;) I guess it all boils down to how lucky you've been, and more so the fact that the friendships that last the longest are when you connect with each other at a totally abstract level. :P Okay, this is the point where I usually lose interest of my readers, and therefore, I'd close here, a short post I must say :P

As a closing comment, just want to say that whatever might be the common perception, I still value friendships for what they become than how they start off, and I bet there's some nari kalyan morcha, or something of that sort ready with a pack of angry moms or brothers ready to pound me to the core for spreading the message of friendship, so I'd better get back to my report lest I be bedridden for the next few days with the beating ;)

The jungle trek - onward journey

From what I recollect, the insects had already bitten us, our feet had gone numb, and we were soaking wet when I last left you ;) The first track brought us rashes and itches, a prelude to what was coming our way. On our way back we caught up with a Kiwi, no not the animal, a New Zealander, probably standing at 6 feet and a few inches, wiping his face with a towel. Not a word was uttered, but the eyes shared the stories, all three of us had been taken for a ride on that trail to end up with a stinky little lake closed somewhere in the heart of Pulau Ubin ;) It is seldom that one accepts that he'd been fooled, but this time round I don't mind the confession, because had it not been for that trail I wouldn't have resolved to explore the whole island come what may and make the day one that'd remain etched in my memory for a long time.

I do not say that every adventure is worth superlatives, but this one shall remain right up there with the other memorable times in Singapore. Not sidetracking anymore, the hike continued on through more turns, uphill slopes, and downhill slides as we reached the main camping site. Ashen coconuts, and little embers of fire rising into the air before shimmering into ash and falling to the ground again, fishing bait spilt on the ground, and a lingering smell of a barbecue freshly put out enthused the air with a sense of calm and serenity. Into the distance we could see the Malaysian islands, and there they came, the 5 SMS messages welcoming us to the Malaysian shores, and though it may sound kiddish on our part, but we were pretty excited to "technically" be in Malaysia. ;) As we skirmished through the map, contemplating the next road to take, tummies started growling, "The Coffee Bean" had to be given a pass in the morning, and at least one part of our body wasn't too happy about it and it was making its views felt. *Plomp* came the rucksack off my friend's back and out came the glorious chocolate spread, jam and bread. Although it sounds like a poor man's meal, trust me in that scorching heat a heavy lunch is the last thing you'd want.

Unlike actual campers we used knives to spread thick creamy layers of jam n chocolate to gulp down the loaves of bread in counts of 3 and once 4. ;) After the much needed "pet pooja", we relaxed and sat down on the sand, legs spread out, under the cool shade of the overbearing palm tree. A cool zephyr blew in from the west, taking with it the fine grains of white sand, making our lips go salty as we just lay, too lazy to twitch even a muscle to get out of the way. Another 10 minutes before we realised it was about time we made a move if we were to catch the high tide at the mangrove boardwalk. Got up, wiped our shorts clean, took our bikes, climbed back up the rocky descent and landed back on the main track. After cycling for about 15-20 minutes, shifting gears in desperation to save up on energy to continue with the trek ahead we reached a clearing in the woods. It was probably the chirps and squeals that made us stop and walk the rest of the way, to be able to soak in the unaltered sounds of the forest and be captivated by the intensity of the place we were in - true, the best way to explore Pulau Ubin is on foot, but only if you have feet of steel! ;) While ambling through the wilderness, a faint murmur presented itself, a very quaint whisper, and it wasn't long before I realised that there was water nearby - the babbling definitely had to be coming from there.

We got off the walking track and took a detour into the bushy carpet once again, tearing past thorns and avoiding ant hills as much as we could. I was right, though only partially, a stench caught our nostrils and the mind screeched to turn back and head towards the bikes, which now lay on a bed of dry leaves. But we hurried along forward, and there under a small clearing beneath a half fallen tree we could see gentle ripples washing onto the shore seaweed and algae. The smell was unbearable, but so was the ecstasy of supposing we had stumbled upon some unexplored country ;) Only a few souls, I like to imagine, would have actually seen Singapore from this tiny shore and oh sweet moses was the view just breathtaking - lined along the shore small buildings, with tiny specks of boats - magnificence! Some 5 metres away from us lay on a rock, a weird specimen - we poked it with a stick, even splashed some water onto it in the anticipation of it opening up like an oyster - nope no fairytale here, we gave up and walked on. It wasn't long after that short detour that we reached the gates of the Indian Ocean boardwalk.

We parked our bikes somewhere near I don't know where :P I guess the excitement of the boardwalk got the better of us as we even forgot to lock our bikes - but then again its Singapore, and where would one go with the bike - its a friggin' island ;) Anyways, we continued onto the boardwalk - I have been near water a lot of times, I have been knee deep in water a lot of times, I have seen different waters, I have seen 'em all, but I had never seen what I saw that afternoon, and had never been so fascinated with water. A swaying walk over the ocean, fishes, crabs - all visible, it was not so much one thing that drew attention but the whole moment engulfed your conscious state of mind and elevated you into a trance where you just wanted to sit down and stare into the distance. We did exactly that and for moments, nobody spoke, soothing silence, except for the waves crashing against the rocks behind us, the wind blowing through our hair, the wet t-shirts, a shiver running down our spines as the wind got chilly with the incoming high tide. In the distance we could see a small beach, my guess a privately owned one, lined with rocks, rising structures built by nature, carved into the landscape, the kind where a snap does no justice, but a painter's fine strokes on a blank canvas do ;)

Time to move on - we shifted track to the mangrove boardwalk. Don't worry, I won't call this fascinating since I know for the informed reader a talk of science that fascinates isn't all that enticing as is the talk of natural splendour ;) I guess despite 5 paragraphs in this post talk about nothing but Pulau Ubin, words can never replace the feeling you get - to be shooting downhill, as if in free fall, how it just lets the mind loose, and how the child in you relives the past, delving into the immature self and moulding from it a memorable day that made you forget all your worries even if for just a day ;)

To have heard the story of the ocean with your ear pressed against a sea-shell - that is bliss - that is Pulau Ubin ;)

The bum-boat trip

Saturday night we decided after racking our brains for an hour, to go to Pulau Ubin, an island flanked off the coast of Singapore. I wouldn't say it was easiest of decisions to convince a bunch of unwilling lazy ass morons to have fun on a Sunday. So it was agreed upon, 6 a.m. we leave, have breakfast at "The Coffee Bean" which offered free coffee refills till 8 in the morning, and from there on continue on to our destination. Sure we didn't take an oath or anything, but the fact that whoever was late in the morning would have his ass fried on a pan was reason enough to tuck into bed at 12 in the night, and switch the goddamn TV off !

The alarm rang, with all its vigour and ear-wrenching pain. And like always, I sub-consciously woke up, scratched my butt, sleep-walked to the loo, pee'd, switched the shrill shriek off, cozied under the blanky and dozed off again. Only to wake up with a head-rush at 9:00 and go "Oh shit!!" :P Went through the morning chores, got ready, and after another round of convincing, got one of the nincompoops to tag along for Pulau Ubin. After a tiring half-hour train journey, we reached the Changi Village jetty terminal. On board a bumboat that swayed from side to side as if about to capsize, we both went out onto the board, to have the splashing water in our face, and dabble our hands in the icy water, only to be yelled at by the boat driver, in what I can only imagine was some local Malay dialect :P Finally getting off on the Pulau Ubin jetty, we scouted for someone looking intelligent enough to operate a Nikon D80 and click a snap of the two of us, but to no avail, before a sweet lil Chinese lady offered to help and clicked, to do her justice, a pretty good snap :)

With the next bumboat arriving behind us, fully loaded with yapping bunch of girls, we decided to hurry up to the bike rentals. Now this is the point in the story where my popping vein starts throbbing on and off. Browsing through the neat bikes, we came across a shop offering a range from SGD 2 till SGD 15. A conflict of interest arose here. I took the side of the SGD 10 brand new Shimano-geared mountain bikes, while the prick with me wanted the run-down, gear-less SGD 2 run-of-the-mill trash. For those aware of my tongue, it would come as no surprise that I rode out on a sparkling red brand new bike while he was on a new blue mountain bike :P The first stopover was for drinks, we'd started dehydrating already in the scorching heat - I went in for 100 Plus, and he savoured his usual coconut water. Time to set out, we pedalled our way through twists and turns, up slopes, down the hill, as we drew near the first quarry.

I could go on to describe the entire day to you, minute by minute, but I guess you do not have the dedication to enjoy the whole trip nor do I have the inclination to keep writing beyond the last sip of my Stella Artois I'm sipping on right now. Yup, its chilled, little drops of dew condensing on the coaster (aww I know you're jealous). There on, we continued on our bikes, to every nook and cranny of the island we could possibly get our wheels on. At this juncture, I'd like to bring to your attention just one fact - learn how to fix the chain of a bike, my friend learnt it the hard way as I pained his happiness because he couldn't fix his, after derailing it TWICE ! :P If you ever, per chance, happen to travel with me and act an ignorant fool, trust me I won't hesitate for even a second to barbecue your tinsy winsy heiny and have it with sumptuous salsa ;)

Earthen trails were the most endearing feats of Pulau Ubin as we tried our first track on wheels, taking sharp turns, difficult up-slope hikes, feet itching with the grass not caressing but rather giving launching platforms to insects to latch onto the freakishly hairy legs, we Indian blokes have been endowed with! :) Sweat dripping off every exposed body part, the scorching heat drilling into our head, feet all red with insect bites, we toiled through the trails, to discover at the end of it, a serene lake, lined with pebbles, and afloat in the middle, seemed like a small branch broken off the overlying canopy. Time for D80 to show some magic, I zoomed in to click what I hoped would be one of my most inspiring clicks, but alas, an open Evian bottle is what it turned out to be :( Stupid idiotic jerk who threw it in, may that water burn when he pee's it out !

We continued onward, but at this point, the last drop of Stella Artois fizzles down my throat and as promised, I draw this post to a close. Wait for the second part of this endearing journey. If you think the whackiest is already over, you're in for a surprise ! ;)

Till we meet next .. Au revoir ;)

How to flunk the sling ;)

They say it rained crazy on Friday night, thunder struck and the streets of Singapore didn't get a reprieve from the constant downpour. Little would I know after falling asleep like a baby with an aching butt after the workout at the gym. Rise and shine Saturday morning, a workout at the gym, a glass full of milk and a yummy chocolate to munch on, was followed by a warm shower, and of course yours truly giving challenge to the winners of American Idol :)

Got into my Quiksilver red t-shirt and black shorts and a 'voila twinkle in the eye' as I looked into the mirror giving a thumbs-up. On my way to the island I figured it'd be better to grab a quick bite, never know this place just might in keeping with its tradition not allow me to eat anything on the way :( Enter Bread Toast - no its a chain of bakeries, course I wouldn't go for JUST a toast - sheesh ! A cheese boat and a blueberry puff it was with home-made iced lemon tea. For the uninitiated, home-made refers to the fact that it was made there and then, and had the engaging aroma to it a whiff of which would send you on a spin. Bollocks to the rules, I happily munched my way to the MRT station exit en route the cable car to Sentosa Island. Now I'm not a cynic, well at least not in the true sense of the word - bet there must be a pair of eyes going gol-gol right now ;) - but there is just so much that you can resist yourself from ridiculing. If the person with you actually walks up to the ticket window and asks for the return timing of the cable car, and on being replied to as 11 o'clock, actually asks "am or pm" there is no way in hell that I'd keep my mouth shut! For heaven's sake people, its 9 in the morning, how can the last cable car due back be in just 2 hours ?! Anyways, there we were letting out ooh's and aah's as we saw the Singapore skyline, a vague outline which we christened as Indonesia and Malaysia on either side, more so to feed our ego of having seen such a feature rather than the truth itself - in short, we know crap what those islands were :P

Getting off the cable car, we ambled into the courtyard, where we met Jeremy, our tour guide. Yes, like three ol hags we'd taken a guided tour for the first two hours, however, I would like to mention that I was STRICTLY against it - but alas, when money talks, you shut up :P I swear if I'd not known him to be a tour guide, I'd have definitely thought Jeremy was high on coke or crack. The enthusiasm these people exude while showing you around just induces that excitement in you, hell you'd even be amazed on spotting a caterpillar on the sidewalk. The first stop was the underwater aquarium - yeah I know you're probably wondering what's so special about fish swimming around? Consider this now - a sting ray with a tail that spans 2 m, another sting ray that almost jumps up from out of the water to bite your nose off if you get too close, fish that look as if reincarnated from fossils, crabs - including the world's largest Japanese crab on display, a tunnel with water on three sides, where you can literally see how a sting ray's bottom actually resembles a man's face! Still not impressed I see - well, ever taken up a starfish in your hand and dangled it around in a pool of water, or have you ever patted a sting ray on the tail, tingling its skin softly, or ever tried catching hold of a small fish and NOT letting it slip away? Ah but beware, I save the best for last - ever caught hold of a SHARK ?! Eyup, you read that right, no need to rub your eyes again and blink like a cartoon ;) Well the other two twits with me were too chicken to try it out and weaseled out of it, their loss, well apart from yours too - too bad you all ain't in Singapore :P

Next show was the Cineblast - a simulation theatre with 4-D effects, not just 3-D but the fourth dimension was "feeling" - not my words, that's how corny a line Jeremy came up with to have the tourists swooning ;) Up til this point, just like devout Indians we had made sure we got the best part of the deal and stuck close with Jeremy to catch every detail along the way. But alas, hunger struck, and as always the two dimwits got hungry, so went into a store to get some chips. Result - we were at the back of the queue and the last ones before the audi got full - argh ! But Jeremy to the rescue again - and he led us to the third attraction, promising us to make sure we were back in time to enjoy the 4-D ride soon after. This part is the movie theatre - another 4-D gimmick. A kid's movie, on pirates, it had a few effects - not so great but I liked the parts where they spray water at the back of your neck from the seat to make you tingle, and the bees' sound effects and 3-D motion as if they were just about to sting you, slimy crabs crawling all over your feet as you got more nauseous. After the 10-minute feature presentation, during which the entire time one of the nincompoops could not keep his mouth shut and kept cribbing about having wasted money on the movie - think he was expecting a "star trek" experience.

Anyhoo, moving on, we made it back before time, and were again at the head of the queue for the simulation game. Crunch, munch, crackle, crumble as the pigs ate and dropped crumbs on the floor stepping on them and making a mess. A word of advice now - if ever per chance you end up going to such a show, NEVER sit between two idiots! It was an amazing show, we were basically logs who were being thrown around in the Himalayas, ending up in the Amazon river, attacked by crocs, chopped with sharp edges, thrown into free fall off cliffs - boy was that fun. Wondering where the catch is? Well, the moron to my left sang "Maahi Ve" from the Hindi movie "Kaante" the whole goddamn fucking time, and the freak to my right was mimicking my ooh's and aah's to the extent that he was moving around his seat for no reason - if the simulation threw us forward, he'd overdo it with a sideways jerk too - come on man - one plus one free offer does not go for simulation rides - jeez. Fumes would be coming off the top of my head if I'd been a cartoon.

There was still time for the Dolphin show, so we decided to go along the dragon trail instead. A circular walk around the western half of Sentosa, the trail was inspiring, not to forget the fact that we discovered a dragon carcass ;) Got up on a fountain, polluted it with our feet, splashed some water and of course the all time favourite, singing out loud till your voice breaks off :P There's a lot to say bout the walk, but I guess the snaps we took there would say more than the words I might put in here :)

Finally, the star attraction of the day - the dolphin show was about to begin. A poppy and his son - am talking about the dolphins now - were the one showing off their antics. First to start off a wave of the fin to say "hello", followed by a clean jump through the hoops. Standard issue dolphin shows right? Ah but there's more, ask the dolphin how many fish it wants - one - a shake of the head - two - another shake - the whole box - a nod and boy were they happy to see a box full of fish thrown into the sea :P Two people from the audience were called down into the water - I raised my hand but as always didn't get picked :( The dolphins swam around them, grabbed fish off their hands, let 'em pat their back, and last of all, gave them such a cute lil peck on the cheek. There;s more that happened during that show, but I'd spare you the details.

Such a wonderful day commanded a signature sign-off for the day - my idea of the cool breeze blowing, sitting on the deck of a dark open bar on the beach on an easy-chair, sipping on some cool beer, shirt open and a wonderful gal right next to you ;) I wouldn't say we didn't do any of the above, but do read on to see how the dream was stripped apart and shred into pieces by the two assholes with me (they got promoted to that status after what follows :) ). We ended up at an Indian bar-cum-restaurant, sitting on uncomfortable high chairs, ordering a Singapore sling, on which one of the idiots got drunk, onion bhajia - that came out like slimy onions wrapped in paper, and to top it all off songs from Hindi movies playing - the kind where the hero dances around a tree calling out for the heroine to come and join him. And you wondered why during the entire post I called those jerks names :P

The sling was awesome though, apparently not the real thing I've been told, but a visit then to the southern most tip of Asia, and a few playful brattiness tricks on the beach got me right back on track as we got back onto the cable car on our way back, the sun setting in the west - a day well spent - a time worth having :)

PS Too bad if you all missed out on Singapore till now !