I have seen it earlier and I see it played competitively these days. Usually men at work play this game, but women join in too. And the serious players play it with as much vengeance as noticed on any playground.
The difference here is that the game is played solo and most often in front of computer screens.
The name of the game is ‘dig your nose’!
The players look very attentively at their screens and their fingers suddenly spring to a life of their own. They go up and round, and round and up, drilling for boogers. Once the catch is found, it is rolled into balls with equal relish, presented for inspection and then thrown away. After a few minutes of recovery from the orgasm, the search begins again.
The occupational hazard of the game is that the player may get caught while fingering himself (yes, pun intended). And then depending upon the levels of the maturity, he or she may turn a scarlet red (a rarity) or may just let the hand stop for a while (happens all the time). But connoisseurs of the sport definitely go back to it with unabated fervor.
Yes. I stopped shaking hands a long time ago.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Sorry Bhai
This movie has zero of Sanjay Suri, a little bit of Sharman Joshi and too much of Chitrangada Singh (like her long name). Sharman has grown as an actor.
But the movie belongs to Shabana Azmi and Boman Irani. They are fun. Shabana’s character as the controlling mother is well etched out and played very well. Made me think of my mother on so many occasions.
And the movie made me miss my family. I became painfully aware of what I have lost.
But the movie belongs to Shabana Azmi and Boman Irani. They are fun. Shabana’s character as the controlling mother is well etched out and played very well. Made me think of my mother on so many occasions.
And the movie made me miss my family. I became painfully aware of what I have lost.
Oye Lucky, Lucky Oye
The one thing this movie captured very well was the street smartness of the typical North Indian thug. And juxtaposed it equally well with the streets of western UP and the life that thrives there.
A bit confusing at times for the usual Bollywood junkie bred on deathly detailing, it isn’t great cinema but is a fun one-time watch. Abhay Deol lives the part easily and Paresh Rawal dons different characters deftly.
A bit confusing at times for the usual Bollywood junkie bred on deathly detailing, it isn’t great cinema but is a fun one-time watch. Abhay Deol lives the part easily and Paresh Rawal dons different characters deftly.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
A Gross Post
As the title hints, this one is gross and may not go down well with the readers. So, please stop reading here if you are not into scat.
If you are still reading this, I will try and use language that is in-offensive. For starters, let me clarify that I am not into scat – or into excrement of any sort. But the German commodes have brought me to this level. I am not sure if there is something necessarily German about these commodes – but I have not seen this design anywhere else.
The middle part of these commodes is reversed from the usual ones The normal means the only ones I had seen so far. So, right below your bum is the temporary resting place for your turds. And the usual hole-of-water is in the front. So you can clearly see your dirty deeds wash down the drain. (Gosh, I feel pathetic writing this. But I have to get this off my chest as I have been living with this post since September).
Now, before you actually flush your stuff away you will have to sit a few inches above it, while bowel smells waft around and warm your exposed bum. You have to be so alert that as soon as it drops, you must turn around and flush it away. Clearly it needs some nimble handiwork too, to be able to turn around and hit the button while you are still in the middle of the act. But if you don’t show that dexterity, you have to sit on your shit.
Trouble happens when you have been eating healthy and trouble happens when the tummy is upset. If you are healthy the shit is healthy too (holy mother of cow!) and takes several flushes to even budge from its throne. The aerodynamics come on practical display here so well – there is this oblong thing lying and not moving at all because the water flow is in the same direction. And you flush and you flush. The small flush and the big flush. Then you wait it to refill and you flush some more. But the diva or the big bully (that depends on the size) refuses to budge. Then you just sit helplessly curling up your nose and cursing the designer of the commode. What on earth were he/she thinking when they designed it - that people will happily sit and smell their shit?
And when you do only the small number, you have to aim really well else the collected puddle in the middle raises hell and gets everything else wet.
As I traveled around here a bit more and went to some more bathrooms, I realized that this was an old design and the new ones that they use are the regular ones. But sadly I live in a building that is older than me and I sit on a commode that is from another era.
There, I have said it. Now if you are disgusted, picture me each morning!
And get disgusted some more.
If you are still reading this, I will try and use language that is in-offensive. For starters, let me clarify that I am not into scat – or into excrement of any sort. But the German commodes have brought me to this level. I am not sure if there is something necessarily German about these commodes – but I have not seen this design anywhere else.
The middle part of these commodes is reversed from the usual ones The normal means the only ones I had seen so far. So, right below your bum is the temporary resting place for your turds. And the usual hole-of-water is in the front. So you can clearly see your dirty deeds wash down the drain. (Gosh, I feel pathetic writing this. But I have to get this off my chest as I have been living with this post since September).
Now, before you actually flush your stuff away you will have to sit a few inches above it, while bowel smells waft around and warm your exposed bum. You have to be so alert that as soon as it drops, you must turn around and flush it away. Clearly it needs some nimble handiwork too, to be able to turn around and hit the button while you are still in the middle of the act. But if you don’t show that dexterity, you have to sit on your shit.
Trouble happens when you have been eating healthy and trouble happens when the tummy is upset. If you are healthy the shit is healthy too (holy mother of cow!) and takes several flushes to even budge from its throne. The aerodynamics come on practical display here so well – there is this oblong thing lying and not moving at all because the water flow is in the same direction. And you flush and you flush. The small flush and the big flush. Then you wait it to refill and you flush some more. But the diva or the big bully (that depends on the size) refuses to budge. Then you just sit helplessly curling up your nose and cursing the designer of the commode. What on earth were he/she thinking when they designed it - that people will happily sit and smell their shit?
And when you do only the small number, you have to aim really well else the collected puddle in the middle raises hell and gets everything else wet.
As I traveled around here a bit more and went to some more bathrooms, I realized that this was an old design and the new ones that they use are the regular ones. But sadly I live in a building that is older than me and I sit on a commode that is from another era.
There, I have said it. Now if you are disgusted, picture me each morning!
And get disgusted some more.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Dasvidaniya
For me, the most poignant scene of the movie was when Amar tells Neha that he loves him. He had loved her from when she was a little girl, till now. The expression on Neha’s face as she runs towards Amar was so lively – I am not sure what it depicted. Was there pain, or was there pity, helplessness or sadness, or just plain empathy?
I don’t know what it was. But I cried.
Overall, I think the movie dealt with the subject of death quite well. A definite watch!
I don’t know what it was. But I cried.
Overall, I think the movie dealt with the subject of death quite well. A definite watch!
Bitch!
However much you learn and however much you strengthen yourself, it gets to you. All the dams breach and all the armors become traps. It catches you when you least expect it, when all your guards are down.
You may immerse yourself in work and in fun, in philosophy and in frivolity, but it knows when you will turn a corner and it will strike then, almost paralyzing you by the suddenness.
It will be ruthless and it will leave you panting. You will gasp for breath, trying to catch on to any of those myriad things that you told yourself while you were getting over it the last time. None of it will work and no one will come to your rescue.
It mocks at you and sniggers while you try to cover yourself.
Then you get up and try to brush away the dirt knowing fully well that the stain may lighten but will never leave. You tell yourself you have learnt a new lesson and try to see the brighter side. You know where to mend your armor. You collect yourself and move on. It watches you and sniggers again, for it knows another thousand and more places where it will strike again.
Life. Bitch!
You may immerse yourself in work and in fun, in philosophy and in frivolity, but it knows when you will turn a corner and it will strike then, almost paralyzing you by the suddenness.
It will be ruthless and it will leave you panting. You will gasp for breath, trying to catch on to any of those myriad things that you told yourself while you were getting over it the last time. None of it will work and no one will come to your rescue.
It mocks at you and sniggers while you try to cover yourself.
Then you get up and try to brush away the dirt knowing fully well that the stain may lighten but will never leave. You tell yourself you have learnt a new lesson and try to see the brighter side. You know where to mend your armor. You collect yourself and move on. It watches you and sniggers again, for it knows another thousand and more places where it will strike again.
Life. Bitch!
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Its Nationalism
It happened again. At the gym, the instructor refused to answer my questions asked in English. I tried my best to make him understand what I wanted with the little Deutsche that I have picked, and by sign language. The drama went on for a while tillhe began in English. He cited the reason was that he wants all the “English speaking Indians” to learn Deutsche.
I don’t like this shoving down my throat.
See previous post
I don’t like this shoving down my throat.
See previous post
Mila 18
By Leon Uris
Its about the Warsaw Ghetto and the Jews who revolted against the Nazis. The book brings out all the spine-chilling details of cruelties in that the Nazis forced upon the European Jews during the Second World War. It also tells passionate love stories of the ordinary people made extra-ordinary in the face of absolute doom and catastrophe.
I deliberately slowed my reading pace so that I could live each moment of the agony that the characters lived through and of passion that they lived with! I had goose-bumps and I had smiles. I had revulsion and I felt my skin crawl. I was scared when The Nazi guns were outside their doors and I was ecstatic when they hit back and won over the brutes.
I plan to beg this book from its owner.
Its about the Warsaw Ghetto and the Jews who revolted against the Nazis. The book brings out all the spine-chilling details of cruelties in that the Nazis forced upon the European Jews during the Second World War. It also tells passionate love stories of the ordinary people made extra-ordinary in the face of absolute doom and catastrophe.
I deliberately slowed my reading pace so that I could live each moment of the agony that the characters lived through and of passion that they lived with! I had goose-bumps and I had smiles. I had revulsion and I felt my skin crawl. I was scared when The Nazi guns were outside their doors and I was ecstatic when they hit back and won over the brutes.
I plan to beg this book from its owner.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Things people do….
I am referring to one particular practice often exercised in closed spaces, sometimes in the open; by dim, smokey lights. This practice has parallels among other species and hence is a basic instinct but humans have added a hugely entertaining, and at times ridiculous edge to it like they have done to so many other things. They call it social dancing.
People dance for various reasons – to show happiness or to be happy; to attract attention or to answer others’ attempts of vanity; to unwind or to just kill time. Most of them need the heady feeling of being drunk before they can let their hair down. And this breed of dancers sure lets it down – hair and all. They can be a spectacle. No matter what the beat is and no matter what the lyrics are they just get stuck on to their favorite step and on and on they go repeating it with a vengeance not paralleled even by a wagging tail of a pet. A few take the adage ‘dance as no one is watching’ to another level by actually shutting their eyes and transforming themselves into a fantastic world where they are superstars.
The not-so-drunk types may do other antics. Some of them imitate hopping toads while others try the flexibility of a crane’s neck, and still others trot like a peacock. Several other organisms can be found at closer inspection. The long forgotten versions of break-dance steps go hand in feet with bhangra sways; the ‘cultured’ variety chooses a personal version of salsa over bhangra and also punctuates it with a disco delight. All of this to get laid! Sooner or later, with this one or that, or just to get off watching others almost mate on the floor.
There is another breed of jiggy-aspirants. I know of atleast one specimen of this variety – ahem - yours truly! While I smirked at the antics of all the boys and girls, men and women around me I realized that in not so a distant past I was doing just the same. Though I’d like to believe that I did it with a little more panache and followed the beat, I have no clue how many people I have made feel smug at my own version of dancing. I have danced to the most ridiculous numbers at the most awful places. Gosh!
After amusing and berating myself on the above lines for about an hour and wondering what to do with myself, I gave in. Off I went – hands flailing, feet swaying, bum swiveling, pelvis pumping, lips puckered, eyes shut – imagining myself to be the superstar! I am so glad I can still manage the feat without alcohol but if I start thinking more I may soon be either off the floor permanently or will need something very heady to head that way.
But till then I will do the Mambo laced with Hula!
PS: This post is not half as funny as I intended it to be. Hope to write on the subject again….
PPS: One Two Cha Cha Cha… Lets do Cha Cha Cha…
People dance for various reasons – to show happiness or to be happy; to attract attention or to answer others’ attempts of vanity; to unwind or to just kill time. Most of them need the heady feeling of being drunk before they can let their hair down. And this breed of dancers sure lets it down – hair and all. They can be a spectacle. No matter what the beat is and no matter what the lyrics are they just get stuck on to their favorite step and on and on they go repeating it with a vengeance not paralleled even by a wagging tail of a pet. A few take the adage ‘dance as no one is watching’ to another level by actually shutting their eyes and transforming themselves into a fantastic world where they are superstars.
The not-so-drunk types may do other antics. Some of them imitate hopping toads while others try the flexibility of a crane’s neck, and still others trot like a peacock. Several other organisms can be found at closer inspection. The long forgotten versions of break-dance steps go hand in feet with bhangra sways; the ‘cultured’ variety chooses a personal version of salsa over bhangra and also punctuates it with a disco delight. All of this to get laid! Sooner or later, with this one or that, or just to get off watching others almost mate on the floor.
There is another breed of jiggy-aspirants. I know of atleast one specimen of this variety – ahem - yours truly! While I smirked at the antics of all the boys and girls, men and women around me I realized that in not so a distant past I was doing just the same. Though I’d like to believe that I did it with a little more panache and followed the beat, I have no clue how many people I have made feel smug at my own version of dancing. I have danced to the most ridiculous numbers at the most awful places. Gosh!
After amusing and berating myself on the above lines for about an hour and wondering what to do with myself, I gave in. Off I went – hands flailing, feet swaying, bum swiveling, pelvis pumping, lips puckered, eyes shut – imagining myself to be the superstar! I am so glad I can still manage the feat without alcohol but if I start thinking more I may soon be either off the floor permanently or will need something very heady to head that way.
But till then I will do the Mambo laced with Hula!
PS: This post is not half as funny as I intended it to be. Hope to write on the subject again….
PPS: One Two Cha Cha Cha… Lets do Cha Cha Cha…
Living the moment.
It was half, hung in a starlit sky, anchored by white clouds. And it shone brightly, looking upon the town down below. The earthly lights and the lunar light were mocking each other, or were they warming upto each other, telling themselves that they are not alone!
I sat by my window looking at the marvelous spectacle, considering myself blessed to be able to witness this unique amalgamated scenery of man’s endeavors and nature’s existence.
My room was dark and songs from a play-list titled “Heartache” played on the computer – Chandni Ratein; Ek akela is sheher mein; Waqt ne kiya kya haseen sitam…..
I was not in any particularly somber mood nor was I lamenting anything, but the whole atmosphere was apt. As I stepped out onto the balcony, the song changed to Sili hawa choo gayee…and the cold breeze left me shivering. I hugged the air, drew in a deep breath and smiled at the coincidence. As I ran back to the warmth of my room, I knew I had to go to bed and promised myself happy songs in the morning.
Is this what living the moment is?
I sat by my window looking at the marvelous spectacle, considering myself blessed to be able to witness this unique amalgamated scenery of man’s endeavors and nature’s existence.
My room was dark and songs from a play-list titled “Heartache” played on the computer – Chandni Ratein; Ek akela is sheher mein; Waqt ne kiya kya haseen sitam…..
I was not in any particularly somber mood nor was I lamenting anything, but the whole atmosphere was apt. As I stepped out onto the balcony, the song changed to Sili hawa choo gayee…and the cold breeze left me shivering. I hugged the air, drew in a deep breath and smiled at the coincidence. As I ran back to the warmth of my room, I knew I had to go to bed and promised myself happy songs in the morning.
Is this what living the moment is?
 |
| From I have a view |
Monday, October 13, 2008
Two Weeks
It takes two weeks to get everything and anything done here in Germany. Sample this:
* Two weeks to get your work permit; after you have submitted all documents already eons back during the visa process (which itself was three months long)
* Two weeks to get a new internet connection
* Two weeks to get a phone connection
* Two weeks to get a mattress delivered even though you buy it from the store two streets away
* Two weeks to get your furniture delivered at home
* Two weeks to get a new bus pass
* Two weeks to get your ATM card and PIN
So, now when I go to get something, rather than asking how long will it take, I ask will it be done in two weeks?!
Wonder if they do the following also in two weeks:
* Do they do it for two weeks at a go?
* Do they wait for two weeks to go?
* And do they continue doing it for two weeks then?
* Two weeks to get your work permit; after you have submitted all documents already eons back during the visa process (which itself was three months long)
* Two weeks to get a new internet connection
* Two weeks to get a phone connection
* Two weeks to get a mattress delivered even though you buy it from the store two streets away
* Two weeks to get your furniture delivered at home
* Two weeks to get a new bus pass
* Two weeks to get your ATM card and PIN
So, now when I go to get something, rather than asking how long will it take, I ask will it be done in two weeks?!
Wonder if they do the following also in two weeks:
* Do they do it for two weeks at a go?
* Do they wait for two weeks to go?
* And do they continue doing it for two weeks then?
The pleasures of living on the 19th Floor:
* One can ogle into other people’s windows satiating voyeuristic desires
* One can take great pleasure that the people in those windows cannot do the same at your expense cause you are so high up.
* One can roam around in the buff without drawing curtains, cause no can possibly look.
* One can see far beyond till the horizon, and actually make out the end of a rainbow.
* The moon and the stars, and the clouds are so much closer.
* One can take great pleasure that the people in those windows cannot do the same at your expense cause you are so high up.
* One can roam around in the buff without drawing curtains, cause no can possibly look.
* One can see far beyond till the horizon, and actually make out the end of a rainbow.
* The moon and the stars, and the clouds are so much closer.
Entropic, yet ordered….
They all began together, at a place far beyond. They traveled together through wild terrain, among bushes and rocks, making way for their untamed journey. On the way, other similar aspirants joined them after traveling similar umpteen miles. As they all joined each other, they intermingled and lost their individuality. They broke through each stubborn block on the way in their yearning for a common goal somewhere far, far away. If they couldn’t break through, they changed the course but stopped for no one in their eternal quest.
Then, I met them.
As they cascaded down, they were still together, but started to break away under gravity, forming milky white froth. The different broken groups still tried to stick together, but some of them met with protuberances and broke further into tiny little globules. Gravity did further damage and the globules became smaller – some of them became drops and the others got so small that the breeze caused by rushing of the others of their ilk had them airborne. I them as they formed the mist around me. They engulfed me in a cool embrace, as if to welcome me and to touch me with a million tiny little finger tips. But most of them continued their downward journey, pulled on by the full force of the magic g. And then they joined again. All of the breakaway groups joined again to form the flow of Kaveri yet again.
The magic of the Meenmutty Waterfalls was out of the world.
Initially I saw it from a distance, but the fall had a magical pull and drew me to the base where I perched myself on a rock and marveled at the ways of nature. The water gushed through, broke into several streams and showers, hit boulders and broke further still. It was magical to follow the journey of each shower as it rushed down. One has to be there to really know how out-of-the-world can the worldly pleasures be.
Then, I met them.
As they cascaded down, they were still together, but started to break away under gravity, forming milky white froth. The different broken groups still tried to stick together, but some of them met with protuberances and broke further into tiny little globules. Gravity did further damage and the globules became smaller – some of them became drops and the others got so small that the breeze caused by rushing of the others of their ilk had them airborne. I them as they formed the mist around me. They engulfed me in a cool embrace, as if to welcome me and to touch me with a million tiny little finger tips. But most of them continued their downward journey, pulled on by the full force of the magic g. And then they joined again. All of the breakaway groups joined again to form the flow of Kaveri yet again.
The magic of the Meenmutty Waterfalls was out of the world.
Initially I saw it from a distance, but the fall had a magical pull and drew me to the base where I perched myself on a rock and marveled at the ways of nature. The water gushed through, broke into several streams and showers, hit boulders and broke further still. It was magical to follow the journey of each shower as it rushed down. One has to be there to really know how out-of-the-world can the worldly pleasures be.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
I had a lovely day…
I got up a little late this morning,
Had some trouble getting into the swing….
It was my first weekend morning in my pad and I had precious little planned concretely. Woke up to the sound of an SMS canceling the plan to go to Munich. The ablutions done, I got my favorite new Hindi songs on the computer and I stood by my French window leading to the balcony. It was misty outside and everything was blurred – the perfect setting for me to dream.
They say that dreams are just for fools,
I bet you fools made up those rules…
And dream I did. I really listened to the music, using the vocals as the basis for my dreams – sometimes imagining the scenes from the movies, sometimes being part of the scene myself; sometimes singing the ditties for a long lost lover, sometimes jiggy-ing to a fast tempo number!
Then I decided to venture out. A hurried brunch later, I found myself at the bus stop. The ground was covered with yellow maple leaves, and some were on the branches still. I sat there in the sunless winter noon and marveled at the nature. And dreamed some more. Read a page of the book that I am reading which helped me dream some more cause it was describing a scene when the protagonist lovers just met for the first time and the fireworks that happened!
About forty minutes later, I was at the Numberg Bahnhof. The pretext to visit Numberg was to look for Nikon cameras (yeah, I haven’t found any worthy Nikon cameras in my little town). A quick visit to the Tourist Information center pointed me to the downtown area and I began my walk.
The place was colorful and strewn with people, cafes, imbisses (see a previous post) and a very nice winter day surrounded them all. People were out with full families – toddlers in prams, tots in toe, pet puppies following without leashes on! Lovers were walking hand in hand and groups of younger people were just hanging out. It was lively.
After my visits to photo shops and checking out the cameras, I ventured to some instant retail therapy. H&M got me and I fell in love with a white belt that I ended up buying. It’s a different story that now I will have to build a set of clothes and accessories around the belt! Another store later, and I was carrying shoes and new denims as well. Incidentally, this store also had a white belt at half the price but I took solace in the fact that it was XXL and comfortably ignored the fact that I could have altered it to fit my, ahem, L size.
While checking out the stuff, my mind wandered to A certain someone every so often imagining how the stuff would bring on a smile. But owing to the changed status, I brushed away all such thoughts. That was the only, tiny sad tinge to my otherwise very dreamy, happy day.
I discovered that the town has a Starbucks and promptly treated myself to a Hazelnut Cappuccino. As the long lost flavor soothed my taste buds and the warm coffee warmed me a bit, I strolled to a seat under a tree. I had a good view of the people sitting there. Beautiful people dressed stylishly – very Italian and effluent looking older men with nubile nymphets on their arms, old mamas buying the fresh fruits, the not-wanting-to-be-old mamas under layers of age defying cosmetics and flashy accessories, the young couples kissing on the street, the lazy ones lazing on the café chairs under blankets – it was a sight!
As it got dark, they started lighting up the place and I started back to my town. Now back home and having tucked in a very scrumptious tomato-mozzarella pizza, I sit at my desk writing this post with a dorky smile pasted over my stupid face. And my favorite old Hindi music plays in the background!
I got up a little late this morning,
Had some trouble getting into the swing….
They say that dreams are just for fools,
I bet you fools made up those rules…
So never mind what they say,
Sometimes you gotta slip n’ slide away…
Cause its okay
Had some trouble getting into the swing….
It was my first weekend morning in my pad and I had precious little planned concretely. Woke up to the sound of an SMS canceling the plan to go to Munich. The ablutions done, I got my favorite new Hindi songs on the computer and I stood by my French window leading to the balcony. It was misty outside and everything was blurred – the perfect setting for me to dream.
They say that dreams are just for fools,
I bet you fools made up those rules…
And dream I did. I really listened to the music, using the vocals as the basis for my dreams – sometimes imagining the scenes from the movies, sometimes being part of the scene myself; sometimes singing the ditties for a long lost lover, sometimes jiggy-ing to a fast tempo number!
Then I decided to venture out. A hurried brunch later, I found myself at the bus stop. The ground was covered with yellow maple leaves, and some were on the branches still. I sat there in the sunless winter noon and marveled at the nature. And dreamed some more. Read a page of the book that I am reading which helped me dream some more cause it was describing a scene when the protagonist lovers just met for the first time and the fireworks that happened!
About forty minutes later, I was at the Numberg Bahnhof. The pretext to visit Numberg was to look for Nikon cameras (yeah, I haven’t found any worthy Nikon cameras in my little town). A quick visit to the Tourist Information center pointed me to the downtown area and I began my walk.
The place was colorful and strewn with people, cafes, imbisses (see a previous post) and a very nice winter day surrounded them all. People were out with full families – toddlers in prams, tots in toe, pet puppies following without leashes on! Lovers were walking hand in hand and groups of younger people were just hanging out. It was lively.
After my visits to photo shops and checking out the cameras, I ventured to some instant retail therapy. H&M got me and I fell in love with a white belt that I ended up buying. It’s a different story that now I will have to build a set of clothes and accessories around the belt! Another store later, and I was carrying shoes and new denims as well. Incidentally, this store also had a white belt at half the price but I took solace in the fact that it was XXL and comfortably ignored the fact that I could have altered it to fit my, ahem, L size.
While checking out the stuff, my mind wandered to A certain someone every so often imagining how the stuff would bring on a smile. But owing to the changed status,
I discovered that the town has a Starbucks and promptly treated myself to a Hazelnut Cappuccino. As the long lost flavor soothed my taste buds and the warm coffee warmed me a bit, I strolled to a seat under a tree. I had a good view of the people sitting there. Beautiful people dressed stylishly – very Italian and effluent looking older men with nubile nymphets on their arms, old mamas buying the fresh fruits, the not-wanting-to-be-old mamas under layers of age defying cosmetics and flashy accessories, the young couples kissing on the street, the lazy ones lazing on the café chairs under blankets – it was a sight!
As it got dark, they started lighting up the place and I started back to my town. Now back home and having tucked in a very scrumptious tomato-mozzarella pizza, I sit at my desk writing this post with a dorky smile pasted over my stupid face. And my favorite old Hindi music plays in the background!
I got up a little late this morning,
Had some trouble getting into the swing….
They say that dreams are just for fools,
I bet you fools made up those rules…
So never mind what they say,
Sometimes you gotta slip n’ slide away…
Cause its okay
Monday, October 6, 2008
The Fabled German Rudeness
In my one month here, I have had two occasions when I got to witness the so called German rudeness.
I was at the Rathaus (Raat - as in the Hindi night, haus – house), the local registration office where each visitor to the country must go and register to get a local identity for administrative purposes. I had trouble in filling up a form which had instructions in most EU languages including English. I left a few columns empty to check before I filled in my answers. AT the counter, this burly, huge woman began in Deutsche I had not filled those columns. When I said “Deutsche Nien” she pointed out that everything was in English too. She went on blasting me off in Deutsche till the time I filled everything to the best of my knowledge. And bang – she began talking in properly, clipped English!
Do I take that as rudeness? I think she wanted to make it a point that if everything is in a language I understand, I should be smart enough to get it all! Must be one of those hard-to-please people who expect efficiency from people around them!
My bank has been issuing me ATM cards and PINs. I try them and each time the machines just eat up my card. I was exasperated at the constant runs to the bank and had had it. This woman at the counter begins explaining me that I have been using the wrong PIN and I keep telling her that I have always used the correct PIN. After help from another colleague who could talk in English, and after several sighs from me, she was able to tell me that the PINs I have been trying were of previous cards that were delivered with new cards! But this explanation came at the expense of bearing several dirty looks, flailing hands and “you are not listening to me”s from the lady at the counter.
I reckon the Germans are just an emotional people who let their anger and dissatisfaction show very easily. I guess they would also show their happiness and congeniality with equal fervor but may be they just don’t get chance enough to display the good part.
Hence, I still haven’t made up my mind if they are rude or not. I would wait and watch before I label them.
I was at the Rathaus (Raat - as in the Hindi night, haus – house), the local registration office where each visitor to the country must go and register to get a local identity for administrative purposes. I had trouble in filling up a form which had instructions in most EU languages including English. I left a few columns empty to check before I filled in my answers. AT the counter, this burly, huge woman began in Deutsche I had not filled those columns. When I said “Deutsche Nien” she pointed out that everything was in English too. She went on blasting me off in Deutsche till the time I filled everything to the best of my knowledge. And bang – she began talking in properly, clipped English!
Do I take that as rudeness? I think she wanted to make it a point that if everything is in a language I understand, I should be smart enough to get it all! Must be one of those hard-to-please people who expect efficiency from people around them!
My bank has been issuing me ATM cards and PINs. I try them and each time the machines just eat up my card. I was exasperated at the constant runs to the bank and had had it. This woman at the counter begins explaining me that I have been using the wrong PIN and I keep telling her that I have always used the correct PIN. After help from another colleague who could talk in English, and after several sighs from me, she was able to tell me that the PINs I have been trying were of previous cards that were delivered with new cards! But this explanation came at the expense of bearing several dirty looks, flailing hands and “you are not listening to me”s from the lady at the counter.
I reckon the Germans are just an emotional people who let their anger and dissatisfaction show very easily. I guess they would also show their happiness and congeniality with equal fervor but may be they just don’t get chance enough to display the good part.
Hence, I still haven’t made up my mind if they are rude or not. I would wait and watch before I label them.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
I have a view
From my 19th floor wohnung (vo-nung , deutsche for apartment). I can see far and wide. And these days I see the early fall colors. Bright yellows, fiery reds, flaming oranges interspersed by green pines (which I think will remain green till the time snow covers the needles).
I can also see a lake somewhere in the distance and took a walk in the general direction but did not find it. The wind has made the trees shiver and shed and the pavements have turned a bright yellow from a dull cement grey. I loved crushing the leaves under my feet – they are not yet dry and hence did not make much of a crunching noise – but I still delighted myself by stepping on them!
The walk around the neighborhood also upped my spirits a bit. There is a café close by which is open till 10 PM daily (note the stress on daily, which means including Sundays). Though it is not exactly cozy, but the Aquarian in me heaved a sigh of relief to know of the possibility of having a place to go with a book.
The usual Der Beck (equivalent to the Indian Café Coffee Day) is around the other corner but closes by 6 PM. And there is a Doner und Kebap place further down, also open till 10 PM. Implies I will live!
Then, behind my house is the Europa Kanal which also gives my address its name. The canal is flanked by gravel path and hence is apt for a jog. There is a rowing club and ample chairs along the canal. So, I look forward to a nice summer (it is so far away). I only wish somebody would initiate me into activities as these. I keep holding myself back for the fear of the unknown and it being an alien land, and the trigger seldom comes from within. I need to change this.
But overall, I think I would start liking being here now….!
FOr all the pictures, visit http://picasaweb.google.com/rajulver/IHaveAView#
I can also see a lake somewhere in the distance and took a walk in the general direction but did not find it. The wind has made the trees shiver and shed and the pavements have turned a bright yellow from a dull cement grey. I loved crushing the leaves under my feet – they are not yet dry and hence did not make much of a crunching noise – but I still delighted myself by stepping on them!
The walk around the neighborhood also upped my spirits a bit. There is a café close by which is open till 10 PM daily (note the stress on daily, which means including Sundays). Though it is not exactly cozy, but the Aquarian in me heaved a sigh of relief to know of the possibility of having a place to go with a book.
The usual Der Beck (equivalent to the Indian Café Coffee Day) is around the other corner but closes by 6 PM. And there is a Doner und Kebap place further down, also open till 10 PM. Implies I will live!
Then, behind my house is the Europa Kanal which also gives my address its name. The canal is flanked by gravel path and hence is apt for a jog. There is a rowing club and ample chairs along the canal. So, I look forward to a nice summer (it is so far away). I only wish somebody would initiate me into activities as these. I keep holding myself back for the fear of the unknown and it being an alien land, and the trigger seldom comes from within. I need to change this.
But overall, I think I would start liking being here now….!
FOr all the pictures, visit http://picasaweb.google.com/rajulver/IHaveAView#
Mumbai Meri Jaan
Watched the movie last night. I think it conveys several messages.
The movie tells 5 tales in the aftermath of the 7/11 Mumbai blasts.
The downtrodden tea-vendor-by-the-night Tamilian sees all the glitter and gold around him but can’t reach it. There is a very thick glass wall which he can never break. If he tries to find a duct through to touch the life beyond, he is humiliated and thrown out. He is punished for no fault of his. Freedom does not exist for him. He is an alien in his own country. The architects of India’s freedom did not have this in mind when they slogged. He devises a simple plan to get even – starts making hoax calls about malls having bombs. But life does not let him have the pleasure and he soon realizes his mistake, and makes amends. Very poignant.
The beat constable and his senior take the bombing incident in very opposite manners. The younger one feels handicapped and chained by the system he represents while the elder one preaches and almost reveres the do-not-care attitude that he has lived with forever. The interaction with each other makes their relationship so strong that they end up crying in each other’s arms – one for the lost chances, and the other scared and confused about what to do with the chances that he may get.
And then there was this Hindu chap who smells a rotten egg when the Muslim boy that he had seen in his hang-out place suddenly vanishes. He finds out the other’s house, makes enquiries with his mother, follows him to a girlfriend and hence to a dead end, ignores all affection given to him by the “other” community only to realize that his quarry had been to Shirdi to visit Saibaba’s ashram. He then fights an internal duel between Hindu propaganda and the very Indian values of secularism, to emerge a winner and make friends with the guy he thought was a terrorist.
The characters are very well etched out and have been played to the perfection by the cast. A must watch!
The movie tells 5 tales in the aftermath of the 7/11 Mumbai blasts.
The downtrodden tea-vendor-by-the-night Tamilian sees all the glitter and gold around him but can’t reach it. There is a very thick glass wall which he can never break. If he tries to find a duct through to touch the life beyond, he is humiliated and thrown out. He is punished for no fault of his. Freedom does not exist for him. He is an alien in his own country. The architects of India’s freedom did not have this in mind when they slogged. He devises a simple plan to get even – starts making hoax calls about malls having bombs. But life does not let him have the pleasure and he soon realizes his mistake, and makes amends. Very poignant.
The beat constable and his senior take the bombing incident in very opposite manners. The younger one feels handicapped and chained by the system he represents while the elder one preaches and almost reveres the do-not-care attitude that he has lived with forever. The interaction with each other makes their relationship so strong that they end up crying in each other’s arms – one for the lost chances, and the other scared and confused about what to do with the chances that he may get.
And then there was this Hindu chap who smells a rotten egg when the Muslim boy that he had seen in his hang-out place suddenly vanishes. He finds out the other’s house, makes enquiries with his mother, follows him to a girlfriend and hence to a dead end, ignores all affection given to him by the “other” community only to realize that his quarry had been to Shirdi to visit Saibaba’s ashram. He then fights an internal duel between Hindu propaganda and the very Indian values of secularism, to emerge a winner and make friends with the guy he thought was a terrorist.
The characters are very well etched out and have been played to the perfection by the cast. A must watch!
Sunday, September 28, 2008
The village fest!
The last weekend of September and this little village parties hard. Its time for Frauenaurach's own Oktoberfest.
The town centre, right next to the church has changed suddenly - has several stalls selling traditional artefacts like schokapfel (apples layered with chocolate syrup), candy, nougats and a thousand other tidbits; a children's car crash zone (I dont remember what that is called) and the quintessential beer tent.
Been to the tent for two consecutive nights. The entire town and visitors gather inside and do beer. They also sing and dance to the beats of the lone live band set up within. You have to be here to feel the festive spirit. Its so infectious that my headache didnt seem to matter at all. Smiling faces, swaying hands, jiggying bodies and happy people everywhere. Blond teenagers just banging their heads to plain rock-n-roll and their mamas doing the twist, with the papas cheering them on and joining with a mug full of bier (as beer is spelt in Deutsche), young men flirting with women and at times getting very touchy-feely with ach other! The songs have been all English with the occasional Spanish La Bamba and German. So I have enjoyed it to the bits.
The similarities with what we would do at a big family gathering and what people did here were not lost on me. Only that though they were drunk, they were more responsible and the very commonplace brawls that always happen at any such do in India, were completely missing.
Having witnessed this trailor of a fest I am so keen on visiting Munich this coming weekend to witness the real big thing.
The town centre, right next to the church has changed suddenly - has several stalls selling traditional artefacts like schokapfel (apples layered with chocolate syrup), candy, nougats and a thousand other tidbits; a children's car crash zone (I dont remember what that is called) and the quintessential beer tent.
Been to the tent for two consecutive nights. The entire town and visitors gather inside and do beer. They also sing and dance to the beats of the lone live band set up within. You have to be here to feel the festive spirit. Its so infectious that my headache didnt seem to matter at all. Smiling faces, swaying hands, jiggying bodies and happy people everywhere. Blond teenagers just banging their heads to plain rock-n-roll and their mamas doing the twist, with the papas cheering them on and joining with a mug full of bier (as beer is spelt in Deutsche), young men flirting with women and at times getting very touchy-feely with ach other! The songs have been all English with the occasional Spanish La Bamba and German. So I have enjoyed it to the bits.
The similarities with what we would do at a big family gathering and what people did here were not lost on me. Only that though they were drunk, they were more responsible and the very commonplace brawls that always happen at any such do in India, were completely missing.
Having witnessed this trailor of a fest I am so keen on visiting Munich this coming weekend to witness the real big thing.
BC Sutta
Heard this IIT Anthem a few days ago and have been listening it over and again. And if I have ever been drawn to a drag and a puff, it is now. The song has this captivating, nostalgic feel to it. It bonds all the smokers and mentions their travesties that they have to face - all over a sutta.
Had I been that way - shouting profanities and doing dope - life would have been a bit more fun I guess. May be I would have had more friends. May be I would have "hung out" more.
I guess I behaved too well!
Had I been that way - shouting profanities and doing dope - life would have been a bit more fun I guess. May be I would have had more friends. May be I would have "hung out" more.
I guess I behaved too well!
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Rock On
Just saw the movie Rock On.
Absolutely loved it. It is resonting at so many levels.
The need to live today....
To listen to your heart...
To do what you want...
Particularly poignant is the idea of loving everything about the person that you love. Sakshi tried hard to find out what was missing in Aditya's life. Though the recesses of his life that she is trying to delve into may not be pleasant and may challenge her own position in his life, still she goes out and tries to get what was important to Aditya. I think THAT is love. It transcends all personal reasoning, all practicality and is so selfless that you go out and do what makes the other person happy. This is just another level of being in love - Loving with all your being!
Of course, it leaves you vulnerable and may be lonely in the end. But it's a high while it lasts.
Absolutely loved it. It is resonting at so many levels.
The need to live today....
To listen to your heart...
To do what you want...
Particularly poignant is the idea of loving everything about the person that you love. Sakshi tried hard to find out what was missing in Aditya's life. Though the recesses of his life that she is trying to delve into may not be pleasant and may challenge her own position in his life, still she goes out and tries to get what was important to Aditya. I think THAT is love. It transcends all personal reasoning, all practicality and is so selfless that you go out and do what makes the other person happy. This is just another level of being in love - Loving with all your being!
Of course, it leaves you vulnerable and may be lonely in the end. But it's a high while it lasts.
House Hunt
As I arrived here, I knew I will not be settled till the time I had a house to move into. The first night’s scare of the serviced apartment subdued just a tad and I got used to the very 70’s looking, very cold décor of this place in Frauenaurach (Frau – as in how, enau – as in a-now, rach – as in raakh). The village/town/settlement itself is a small speck on the map ensconced between Herzogenaurach and Erlangen.
The Punjabi broker, who had appeared like a messiah on the phone when I was in India, “helped” me with his set of apartments. These were nothing but BIG rooms with a tiny little kitchen on the right and a tiny little bathroom wedged to the left of the entrance. The “furnishings” included a very cold looking bed a tad too small to fit my six foot frame, a table-chair combo and the basics in the kitchen (or kuche as they say it in German). All of this and an internet connection for 500 bucks a month. It sounded like a deal save for the depressing feel of the “house”.
Next day onwards I was out there at the office telling everyone that I needed a house. I was on the Bulletin Board and I was on the website. Some very nice, pretty, cozy places were “available” but I think I had arrived at a bad time. The place was flooded with interns about to begin their stints and all were looking for houses/flats/apartments (haus/ wohnung). Clearly the search was never ending. I did a couple of go-sees and found a bevy of pretty young things queued up with their dainty smiles. And the house owners always seemed to fall for these though they were going to be renting the place for a shorter duration than me. I was told that shorter duration was anathema for the landlords here, but lo and behold, it no longer was.
One of the places was to die for – a neat living room leading to a very cozy kitchen on the side, an attic bedroom and a walk-in wardrobe plus the very clean “private” bathroom. Yes, private. For some very strange reason these folks rent out places where the bathroom (or WC/badzimmer as it is mentioned in the ads) and/or the kitchen has to be shared with other tenants. Weird! It seems like this comes from the earlier times. The modern houses (and there are very few of these) seem to place premium on privacy and people seem to have woken up to the idea. But as luck would have it, the house went to a petite blonde who was not even there yet but was represented by another German speaking petite blonde! What chance I had – an English speaking alien from far away India!
I tried and tried and tried. Got colleagues to talk to estate agents in German, cajoled others to let me know if they even heard a phrase that had a word like “rent” in it, and then this colleague, God bless his soul and give him twenty kids, introduced me to Mr. Tash.
Mr Tash is a native German and is a housemaster (read apartment in-charge) of a set of buildings on a street called Am Europakanal. He showed me two apartments one on the first floor and the other on the 19th floor. The latter had a fantastic view - the canal down below, the city beyond and the hills further away. I was sold. But, the pretty-young-thing catch persisted. Only after a week of several phone calls, heart burn, anxiety and wait, the owner gave the go ahead. At 450 a month and with only the kitchen furnished, I now have a place to move-in, in the next two weeks. I need to get a list of things to buy and get them moved in before I can move in because even buying furniture is not very straight forward here – you go place an order and the shop people will deliver at-home at their own sweet pace. Gosh!
But I finally have a house.
Missed Neha. She would have liked being here. And she would have liked setting up the place.
:(
The Punjabi broker, who had appeared like a messiah on the phone when I was in India, “helped” me with his set of apartments. These were nothing but BIG rooms with a tiny little kitchen on the right and a tiny little bathroom wedged to the left of the entrance. The “furnishings” included a very cold looking bed a tad too small to fit my six foot frame, a table-chair combo and the basics in the kitchen (or kuche as they say it in German). All of this and an internet connection for 500 bucks a month. It sounded like a deal save for the depressing feel of the “house”.
Next day onwards I was out there at the office telling everyone that I needed a house. I was on the Bulletin Board and I was on the website. Some very nice, pretty, cozy places were “available” but I think I had arrived at a bad time. The place was flooded with interns about to begin their stints and all were looking for houses/flats/apartments (haus/ wohnung). Clearly the search was never ending. I did a couple of go-sees and found a bevy of pretty young things queued up with their dainty smiles. And the house owners always seemed to fall for these though they were going to be renting the place for a shorter duration than me. I was told that shorter duration was anathema for the landlords here, but lo and behold, it no longer was.
One of the places was to die for – a neat living room leading to a very cozy kitchen on the side, an attic bedroom and a walk-in wardrobe plus the very clean “private” bathroom. Yes, private. For some very strange reason these folks rent out places where the bathroom (or WC/badzimmer as it is mentioned in the ads) and/or the kitchen has to be shared with other tenants. Weird! It seems like this comes from the earlier times. The modern houses (and there are very few of these) seem to place premium on privacy and people seem to have woken up to the idea. But as luck would have it, the house went to a petite blonde who was not even there yet but was represented by another German speaking petite blonde! What chance I had – an English speaking alien from far away India!
I tried and tried and tried. Got colleagues to talk to estate agents in German, cajoled others to let me know if they even heard a phrase that had a word like “rent” in it, and then this colleague, God bless his soul and give him twenty kids, introduced me to Mr. Tash.
Mr Tash is a native German and is a housemaster (read apartment in-charge) of a set of buildings on a street called Am Europakanal. He showed me two apartments one on the first floor and the other on the 19th floor. The latter had a fantastic view - the canal down below, the city beyond and the hills further away. I was sold. But, the pretty-young-thing catch persisted. Only after a week of several phone calls, heart burn, anxiety and wait, the owner gave the go ahead. At 450 a month and with only the kitchen furnished, I now have a place to move-in, in the next two weeks. I need to get a list of things to buy and get them moved in before I can move in because even buying furniture is not very straight forward here – you go place an order and the shop people will deliver at-home at their own sweet pace. Gosh!
But I finally have a house.
Missed Neha. She would have liked being here. And she would have liked setting up the place.
:(
Some semblance of Life
It was a very boring and lazy Saturday and I was moaning arriving here. Then at 5 PM I took the bus to the town, and saw some life.
The walk down the Neur Markt (New Market) was refreshing. Finally I saw people getting about. The pizzerias and the imbises (singular Imbiss, much like the darshinis back in Bangalore) were doing brisk business.
Something that struck me was the labels that the seemingly average people were flaunting – Gucci, Chanel and Esprit being the favored ones. I consider those people average because there were so many of them and because something tells me that the uber-rich wouldn’t be seen in Erlangen’s Neur Markt any how.
As it got colder and darker, I liked it more. Winter always has this effect on me. I love to walk around in the cold for a bit knowing fully well that when I get really cold I can rush to the cozy warmth of one of the many stores nearby. People were still out there – chatting, guffawing, smoking, kissing, and holding hands.
Life!
Thank God!
The walk down the Neur Markt (New Market) was refreshing. Finally I saw people getting about. The pizzerias and the imbises (singular Imbiss, much like the darshinis back in Bangalore) were doing brisk business.
Something that struck me was the labels that the seemingly average people were flaunting – Gucci, Chanel and Esprit being the favored ones. I consider those people average because there were so many of them and because something tells me that the uber-rich wouldn’t be seen in Erlangen’s Neur Markt any how.
As it got colder and darker, I liked it more. Winter always has this effect on me. I love to walk around in the cold for a bit knowing fully well that when I get really cold I can rush to the cozy warmth of one of the many stores nearby. People were still out there – chatting, guffawing, smoking, kissing, and holding hands.
Life!
Thank God!
The trip to Santis
21st June, 2008.
Santis is a the highest peak in the eastern Swiss Alps and on clear days you can see six countries from the top (blah!). So on the only weekend that I got while in Switzerland, I cajoled my colleague to visit this place as it was close to where we were staying in Buchs.
Two buses later we saw oursleves at the base of the peak. A very filling lunch later we saw oursleves in the cable car that was to take us up the peak. This was my first time in a cable car and the view from the car was fun - several pagdandees, grooves of pine trees and clear blu skies on one side and snow covered alpine peak on the other.
Several times we were surrounded by clouds - finally I was in clouds and it felt wonderful. For the record this is how you feel - you would see clouds coming along and you'd assume it is mist. Then there would be a breeze and you will suddenly be in this haze across which you cant see anything and you feel an icy chill. There are miniscule water droplets that settle down on you and you feel hazed and dazed. And then its gone with the same suddenness that it engulfed you, leaving you squinting at the sudden bright light! This happened several times especially on the peak itself.
The peak has been modified to house several sun-bathing decks, a souvnir shop and this very swiss restaurant prceriously perched on the slope, almost hanging in the air!
The establishment has done a great thing of setting up banisters made of ropes, steel rods etc. that one can hold and do some basic hiking across the mountains. I did it myself - scaled a peak opposite the Santis.
My first peak:
There were many climbing enthusiasts who were doing the real stuff - hiking with all the paraphernalia. It seems they practise here to do the real stuff up the Himalayas.
The Santis has a weather monitoring tower made up of fibre. Next to it the old wooden, and historic structure from an era gone by. The two edifices stand next to each other - one old and now just a piece of history, the other towering, magnificent and vastly useful.
Having spent a few hours up in this air, the trip back to plains was quick. And oh, I forgot to mention the very sumptuous desserts - smacking, finger licking fantastilicious desserts. Pity I dont remember the names any longer!
You can click the slideshow below to see the complete set of pictures!
Santis is a the highest peak in the eastern Swiss Alps and on clear days you can see six countries from the top (blah!). So on the only weekend that I got while in Switzerland, I cajoled my colleague to visit this place as it was close to where we were staying in Buchs.
Two buses later we saw oursleves at the base of the peak. A very filling lunch later we saw oursleves in the cable car that was to take us up the peak. This was my first time in a cable car and the view from the car was fun - several pagdandees, grooves of pine trees and clear blu skies on one side and snow covered alpine peak on the other.
|
| From Santis |
Several times we were surrounded by clouds - finally I was in clouds and it felt wonderful. For the record this is how you feel - you would see clouds coming along and you'd assume it is mist. Then there would be a breeze and you will suddenly be in this haze across which you cant see anything and you feel an icy chill. There are miniscule water droplets that settle down on you and you feel hazed and dazed. And then its gone with the same suddenness that it engulfed you, leaving you squinting at the sudden bright light! This happened several times especially on the peak itself.
|
| From Santis |
The peak has been modified to house several sun-bathing decks, a souvnir shop and this very swiss restaurant prceriously perched on the slope, almost hanging in the air!
 |
| From Santis |
| From Santis |
 |
| From Santis |
The establishment has done a great thing of setting up banisters made of ropes, steel rods etc. that one can hold and do some basic hiking across the mountains. I did it myself - scaled a peak opposite the Santis.
 |
| From Santis |
 |
| From Santis |
My first peak:
 |
| From Santis |
There were many climbing enthusiasts who were doing the real stuff - hiking with all the paraphernalia. It seems they practise here to do the real stuff up the Himalayas.
The Santis has a weather monitoring tower made up of fibre. Next to it the old wooden, and historic structure from an era gone by. The two edifices stand next to each other - one old and now just a piece of history, the other towering, magnificent and vastly useful.
Having spent a few hours up in this air, the trip back to plains was quick. And oh, I forgot to mention the very sumptuous desserts - smacking, finger licking fantastilicious desserts. Pity I dont remember the names any longer!
You can click the slideshow below to see the complete set of pictures!
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Spicy Chocolates
No. I am not talking about anything raunchy but just about chocolates with spice.
Lindt has decided to add spice their dark chocolate and are marketing them as Hot Mango (with mango and cayenne), Hot Maracuja (with maracuja and jalapeno), Hot Papaya (with papaya and chili) and Hot Grenadine (with pomegranate and chili).
I have tried the Maracuja because I wondered how would they put jalapeno in chocolate and I discovered that the gel inside is flavored. Now, as some very tasteful people suggest, I still have not acquired the sophistication to admire and relish dark chocolate, the pack still lies unfinished with me.
The connoisseurs who want to savor these exotic delights need to raise their hands, and feet, now so that I can get them the goodies when I come back!
Lindt has decided to add spice their dark chocolate and are marketing them as Hot Mango (with mango and cayenne), Hot Maracuja (with maracuja and jalapeno), Hot Papaya (with papaya and chili) and Hot Grenadine (with pomegranate and chili).
I have tried the Maracuja because I wondered how would they put jalapeno in chocolate and I discovered that the gel inside is flavored. Now, as some very tasteful people suggest, I still have not acquired the sophistication to admire and relish dark chocolate, the pack still lies unfinished with me.
The connoisseurs who want to savor these exotic delights need to raise their hands, and feet, now so that I can get them the goodies when I come back!
English Teacher
It was intresting to watch him try and weave sentences in English. He struggled with the very universal problem of translating-from-native-langauge-into-alien-language. And hence he spoke with long gaps. His reason for learning English is career advancement and he is doing the usual language-school routine. Can't find people to communicate with in English and hence can't progress in his pursuit. Hence got talking to me off the net and we met.
So, after our coffee, my patient hearing, his constant trials of forming legible sentences, and a customary promise to meet again for more practice, we said good byes.
Very typical person. Back in India I would equate this with someone who is lower middle class and is starting off his career. By 36, as he is, most of them pretty much know what they are doing and just do it, or stop caring about things like career advancement. And even if they do, they seldom learn new langauges. And they do not drive Audis. He, incidentally, does.
The whole episode tells me
- how much I love correcting people's english! I can be SO patient. If I could have been half as much with my work and relations, I would have done wonders.
- people in the west seem to be much more hard working than back home. Hard working and focussed. I am not talking about ambitiuos techies, but the usual run-of-the-mill middle class, middle aged people. May be I not correct in making this judgement but it seems thus so far.
So, after our coffee, my patient hearing, his constant trials of forming legible sentences, and a customary promise to meet again for more practice, we said good byes.
Very typical person. Back in India I would equate this with someone who is lower middle class and is starting off his career. By 36, as he is, most of them pretty much know what they are doing and just do it, or stop caring about things like career advancement. And even if they do, they seldom learn new langauges. And they do not drive Audis. He, incidentally, does.
The whole episode tells me
- how much I love correcting people's english! I can be SO patient. If I could have been half as much with my work and relations, I would have done wonders.
- people in the west seem to be much more hard working than back home. Hard working and focussed. I am not talking about ambitiuos techies, but the usual run-of-the-mill middle class, middle aged people. May be I not correct in making this judgement but it seems thus so far.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
The city of Gams
I did not realize till the time of writing this post that I wad walked into another city altogether on one of my picture clicking sprees.
The Werdenberg castle is actually in Gams, and not in Buchs. Gams seemed to be a more open “city” and gave some very good photo ops of the rolling greens.
The Werdenberg castle is actually in Gams, and not in Buchs. Gams seemed to be a more open “city” and gave some very good photo ops of the rolling greens.
How I envy the people living in these houses!
Here are pictures of the sun orchestrating a light show with the mountains. Note the contrast of the green and the barren on the same mountain:
Gams has the only cinema hall that I noticed in all of my trip. It was playing “Sex and the City”. There was a motel next to it, and a few restaurants.
Plus this sculpture of a woman. I know it was a woman cause I saw representations of a woman’s anatomy that may not be visible fully in this picture here! But I wonder what is the sculpture depicting.
OK now, stop gawking at it!
The smallest city in Switzerland
It’s called Werdenberg. And I discovered it on one of my several evening walks.
Right across my hotel I found this lake. It was hidden from direct view by an old building. The lake itself must have been clean but had a lot of pollen floating on the water surface making it look dirty. There were ducks and a pair of Swans (of Hans as they are called in German) floating among the pollen. There was even a nest right in the middle of the lake.
As I went around the lake, I found these old wooden houses and a note specifying their history. The 34 houses in total, along with a castle, formed the whole city of Werdenberg. The city was built around 1230 AD and was purchased and re-sold by several families till 1956 when it was donated the castle to the local municipality. The castle is the white building in the background. In the foreground is the “Snake House”:
And with the doctor’s house in the foreground:
The view of the lake from the “city”:
The next day when Matthias, the project manager mentioned that Buchs has a lake and a castle, I went “…that dirty lake?! I have seen it”
Right across my hotel I found this lake. It was hidden from direct view by an old building. The lake itself must have been clean but had a lot of pollen floating on the water surface making it look dirty. There were ducks and a pair of Swans (of Hans as they are called in German) floating among the pollen. There was even a nest right in the middle of the lake.
As I went around the lake, I found these old wooden houses and a note specifying their history. The 34 houses in total, along with a castle, formed the whole city of Werdenberg. The city was built around 1230 AD and was purchased and re-sold by several families till 1956 when it was donated the castle to the local municipality. The castle is the white building in the background. In the foreground is the “Snake House”:And with the doctor’s house in the foreground:
Some other houses in which people still live:
The view of the lake from the “city”: The next day when Matthias, the project manager mentioned that Buchs has a lake and a castle, I went “…that dirty lake?! I have seen it”Thursday, July 10, 2008
On the way to Zurich
Here are some of the pictures that I clicked from the train.
The water reflected green and blue quite similar to tropical waters which I found quite surprising.
And then there were the rolling greens reminiscent of “Dekha ek khwab to yeh silsile hue....”
The water reflected green and blue quite similar to tropical waters which I found quite surprising.And then there were the rolling greens reminiscent of “Dekha ek khwab to yeh silsile hue....”
Well, not quite. The flowers are missing. Guess YashRaj took them all away.
And this is Lake Zurich:
And this is Lake Zurich:
The Zurich city can be seen on the hill slope.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Serenading Switzerland
Buchs, SG, Switzerland
Quaint little town, not heard of within the country, but apparently the business visitors to Hilti AG choose to stay in this town, and so I was lodged here too.
The town is on the eastern edge of Switzerland, right next to Lichtenstein, in the state of Sankt Gallen (hence the SG).
I flew into Zurich and had to take a train to Buchs, via Sargans. Most of the signage is in German and when I was to change my train at Sargans, I had no clue which platform to go to and the ticket showed that the train was to leave in exactly 3 minutes after my arrival. So I ran helter-skelter with my luggage and asked a guy in uniform where to find my train. He helped. I also realized later that the train guys are always helpful – you just need to find one around the train or near the ticket place. And that a platform is referred to as “giesl”. The ticket foil has a giesl number.
The journey offered the most fantastic views - rolling greens, blue-green waters of lakes, slant roofed houses et al. It was rainy when I reached and everything was covered under clouds. But it was fantastic still. I even saw the evaporation from pine forests billowing over the trees, and forming white clouds immediately. More on this in another post.
The train itself was plush and I had a seat on the upper deck. A very stacked trolley of food was taken around by the pantry people. I asked for coffee and got just that – black, with milk separately. It was strong and all the milk and the sugar kept it bitter still. It was only later during my stay that I realized that if you want coffee with milk, you need to ask for a cappuccino. It may be bitter still but more palatable to my Indian taste buds.
The German word for a train-station is “bahnhof” and the one at Buchs was relatively small. The taxi road to Hotel Hirschen lasted all of 6 minutes via the Bahnhofstrasse – the train-station street literally.
Bicycle seems to be the most used mode of getting around – not just in Buchs but across the country. People do adventure biking – traversing the hills, as well as the daily getting around atop a two wheeled stead.
The hotels were all booked for the Euro 2008 and Hirschen was under renovation and the only one free to host me for 15 days. It was not so bad after all – only that it didn’t have a phone or a coffee maker. I was aghast when I first looked at it, but the rooms (yes I had a suite at a very easy CHF 69 per night, including breakfast) were neat and had a retro feel to them.
Three of the windows offered a great view of the Alps.
It was cold. It seems the Swiss shut off their heaters during summers. Though it was supposed to be summer, but since it was raining pretty hard, I was cold and had to wear my jacket around in the room. Thankfully they didn’t shut off hot water supply. The TV had only German channels apart from BBC and CNN news and BBC Primetime which proved to be saviors.
The next morning on the way to work, I thanked myself for carrying my woolen suit because that was the only piece of warm clothing I had taken along hoping to find a summery Europe.
The walk on the Bahnhofstrasse was pleasant with the rare person on the road at that hour greeting me and my colleague as they are wont to. The bus ride to Hilti office in Nendln, Liechtenstein was pleasant, scenic and short – all of 20 mins at 2.6 CHF.
Nice people at work – mostly all of them German.
The office itself has the best views of the mountains beyond lush green fields.
After a few days, when the clouds cleared, it was bright and sunny and stayed that way for the rest of my stay. The views from the bus on the way to work were awesome. Some that I took from the bus are attached here:
After ending the day’s work at the office, I would typically head out after reaching the hotel room. Being summer, the sun used to be out till 9 PM and I got to take some excellent shots while taking strolls. One part of the town is where all the new apartments are coming up.
There were fountain spouts everywhere. And they had the cleanest potable water possible. People can actually drink directly from the spouts and I did too. It was cold – icy cold.
The centre of the town had a church whose clock tower was visible from far away. It went kaput one morning and the six AM toll gonged till eternity (or atleast it seemed to). The same happened the next day too. My colleague, Partha, and I had a debate on it being an actual bell or something electronic. I thought it was electronic because I heard the gongs go down in volume as if someone was turning off a dial. His reasoning was that the kind of echoing sound we heard was possible only from a real bell. We never knew.
On one of my walks I discovered a lake and history right next to my hotel. More on that in another post.
Some of the nice looking facades in Buchs that I got to see are here:
And here are some random mountain pics. Snow was visible in some higher reaches.
The Food
Vegetarisch (vege – as in eggy, ta as in tata, risch – as in isssh) is how vegetarian food is refered to. Pronouncing it the English way got me strange looks from people across the food counters. And the lesson learnt on my trip to the US – say “no meat” – did not really help much. I also needed to ascertain there was no fish.
The office food court usually had atleast one vegetarian entrée. When theye did not I had to make do with salad (which is pronounced that same way as in Hindi, not the English way). The salad was literally ghass-phoos once and was quite bland.
Once I had an Austrian delicacy. I am not sure what was the name but it was cheese-balls stuffed with strawberry served in a sweet-sour curry. I was done in one of those balls out of a serving of four – it was super filling and had to get some salad to take away the sweetness that seemed to overtake my being.
My usual dinner used to veg burger with kasse (cheese, pronounced case, I think. Didn’t quite get the hang of it) The eatery right opposite the hotel was owned by Turkish folks. The burger with the iced tea used to be delicious and I miss it. The bread is usually hard almost everywhere and my mouth used to be scraped in places.
This same eatery, and several more serve kebaps which I thought was kebab - only spoken differently. But I guess it was a different dish all together. Anyway, since it did not come vegetarisch at all, I never got to know.
Another thing that I liked to eat was the tomato-mozzarella sandwiches available almost everywhere.
When we ate out at a decent restaurant, a glass of water was priced the same as a glass of beer. The bottled water is usually gaseous – not quite soda but gasified still and is bitter (I think). So I had to be careful while buying water – took only something that read like natural!
Buchs does not have an Indian restaurant. There is a Thai place that we never ventured into. And then there were a couple pizzerias including the one at our hotel. The pizza base is usually thin and so a large pizza is needed to satiate the meal time hunger. Buchs had a McDonald’s as well and that’s where I bit into soft bread in a very long time!
Take away: vegetarians can survive in Switzerland.
Quaint little town, not heard of within the country, but apparently the business visitors to Hilti AG choose to stay in this town, and so I was lodged here too.
The town is on the eastern edge of Switzerland, right next to Lichtenstein, in the state of Sankt Gallen (hence the SG).
I flew into Zurich and had to take a train to Buchs, via Sargans. Most of the signage is in German and when I was to change my train at Sargans, I had no clue which platform to go to and the ticket showed that the train was to leave in exactly 3 minutes after my arrival. So I ran helter-skelter with my luggage and asked a guy in uniform where to find my train. He helped. I also realized later that the train guys are always helpful – you just need to find one around the train or near the ticket place. And that a platform is referred to as “giesl”. The ticket foil has a giesl number.
The journey offered the most fantastic views - rolling greens, blue-green waters of lakes, slant roofed houses et al. It was rainy when I reached and everything was covered under clouds. But it was fantastic still. I even saw the evaporation from pine forests billowing over the trees, and forming white clouds immediately. More on this in another post.
The train itself was plush and I had a seat on the upper deck. A very stacked trolley of food was taken around by the pantry people. I asked for coffee and got just that – black, with milk separately. It was strong and all the milk and the sugar kept it bitter still. It was only later during my stay that I realized that if you want coffee with milk, you need to ask for a cappuccino. It may be bitter still but more palatable to my Indian taste buds.
The German word for a train-station is “bahnhof” and the one at Buchs was relatively small. The taxi road to Hotel Hirschen lasted all of 6 minutes via the Bahnhofstrasse – the train-station street literally.
Bicycle seems to be the most used mode of getting around – not just in Buchs but across the country. People do adventure biking – traversing the hills, as well as the daily getting around atop a two wheeled stead.The hotels were all booked for the Euro 2008 and Hirschen was under renovation and the only one free to host me for 15 days. It was not so bad after all – only that it didn’t have a phone or a coffee maker. I was aghast when I first looked at it, but the rooms (yes I had a suite at a very easy CHF 69 per night, including breakfast) were neat and had a retro feel to them.
Three of the windows offered a great view of the Alps.
It was cold. It seems the Swiss shut off their heaters during summers. Though it was supposed to be summer, but since it was raining pretty hard, I was cold and had to wear my jacket around in the room. Thankfully they didn’t shut off hot water supply. The TV had only German channels apart from BBC and CNN news and BBC Primetime which proved to be saviors.
The next morning on the way to work, I thanked myself for carrying my woolen suit because that was the only piece of warm clothing I had taken along hoping to find a summery Europe.
The walk on the Bahnhofstrasse was pleasant with the rare person on the road at that hour greeting me and my colleague as they are wont to. The bus ride to Hilti office in Nendln, Liechtenstein was pleasant, scenic and short – all of 20 mins at 2.6 CHF.
Nice people at work – mostly all of them German.
The office itself has the best views of the mountains beyond lush green fields.
After a few days, when the clouds cleared, it was bright and sunny and stayed that way for the rest of my stay. The views from the bus on the way to work were awesome. Some that I took from the bus are attached here:
After ending the day’s work at the office, I would typically head out after reaching the hotel room. Being summer, the sun used to be out till 9 PM and I got to take some excellent shots while taking strolls. One part of the town is where all the new apartments are coming up.There were fountain spouts everywhere. And they had the cleanest potable water possible. People can actually drink directly from the spouts and I did too. It was cold – icy cold.
The centre of the town had a church whose clock tower was visible from far away. It went kaput one morning and the six AM toll gonged till eternity (or atleast it seemed to). The same happened the next day too. My colleague, Partha, and I had a debate on it being an actual bell or something electronic. I thought it was electronic because I heard the gongs go down in volume as if someone was turning off a dial. His reasoning was that the kind of echoing sound we heard was possible only from a real bell. We never knew. On one of my walks I discovered a lake and history right next to my hotel. More on that in another post.Some of the nice looking facades in Buchs that I got to see are here:
And here are some random mountain pics. Snow was visible in some higher reaches.
The Food
Vegetarisch (vege – as in eggy, ta as in tata, risch – as in isssh) is how vegetarian food is refered to. Pronouncing it the English way got me strange looks from people across the food counters. And the lesson learnt on my trip to the US – say “no meat” – did not really help much. I also needed to ascertain there was no fish.
The office food court usually had atleast one vegetarian entrée. When theye did not I had to make do with salad (which is pronounced that same way as in Hindi, not the English way). The salad was literally ghass-phoos once and was quite bland.
Once I had an Austrian delicacy. I am not sure what was the name but it was cheese-balls stuffed with strawberry served in a sweet-sour curry. I was done in one of those balls out of a serving of four – it was super filling and had to get some salad to take away the sweetness that seemed to overtake my being.
My usual dinner used to veg burger with kasse (cheese, pronounced case, I think. Didn’t quite get the hang of it) The eatery right opposite the hotel was owned by Turkish folks. The burger with the iced tea used to be delicious and I miss it. The bread is usually hard almost everywhere and my mouth used to be scraped in places.
This same eatery, and several more serve kebaps which I thought was kebab - only spoken differently. But I guess it was a different dish all together. Anyway, since it did not come vegetarisch at all, I never got to know.
Another thing that I liked to eat was the tomato-mozzarella sandwiches available almost everywhere.
When we ate out at a decent restaurant, a glass of water was priced the same as a glass of beer. The bottled water is usually gaseous – not quite soda but gasified still and is bitter (I think). So I had to be careful while buying water – took only something that read like natural!
Buchs does not have an Indian restaurant. There is a Thai place that we never ventured into. And then there were a couple pizzerias including the one at our hotel. The pizza base is usually thin and so a large pizza is needed to satiate the meal time hunger. Buchs had a McDonald’s as well and that’s where I bit into soft bread in a very long time!
Take away: vegetarians can survive in Switzerland.
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