San Jose to San Diego and back - Days 4 - 7

Days 4-7 (Monday - Thursday 27th-30th Dec 04’):
Nicky, her boyfriend (Parthiv) and I set out at 6 am to go to the airport. SJ was kind of cold, so the walk to the VTA was more like a run to it. We took the VTA to the airport, where we picked up our rental car from a rather soft-spoken and prejudiced gentleman (He actually had the audacity of saying to me, in return for a rather genuine question I posed to him, "Are'nt New Yorkers 30 years behind Californians?") Not exactly my favourite way of starting a day, as I wondered to myself, "How not-Californian can that get, a person talking to you so rudely?" As long as I lived in California, I had always maintained that Californians are like their weather; warm and sunny, even to strangers. I remember missing the fact that strangers smile at each other in this state, when I moved to New York, where people barely manage to say "Excuse me" if they are in a rush. And here comes this random car-rental guy, who decides to screw up that whole image. Thankfully, for every rude bloke, there's an entire state full of sunny people, that I've encountered.
We took our car and came back to Nicky's place to pick up our luggage. Parthiv had accompanied us all this while, so that in the drive back from the airport to Nicky's place, he could familiarise her with the car's controls and make her comfortable for the long drive ahead. With our luggage in the boot, we were all set to drive off to what would become a 12 hour journey to Southern California, in a thunderstorm. The plan was to drive on Route 1, a.k.a the Pacific Coast Highway (which runs parallel to the Pacific Ocean), from North to South California. Driving down the length of California, on the PCH is one of those must-do's in the US, so today was our turn to do it!
To synopsize the 12 hr journey, I will just say it was packed with some very good driving/ navigating skills (on both Nicky's and my part) that took us through the rain and storm, some heavenly views of the pacific ocean, the rocky landscapes, the deep blue skies, the thick forests with varying degrees of green and beautiful roads that wound in and out but stayed faithful to the ocean all the time! After having driven for a while on the Route 1 (around 7 hours, to be precise), we decided that the view was getting monotonous and the weather, nasty. So we diverged inwards to join the 101 S Highway, at San Luis Obispo, hoping to reach our destiantion faster. What would now have been about a 3-4 hr journey took us almost an hour longer, thanks to the LA traffic. Driving through LA, made me nostalgic, especially as I navigated Nicky through LA quite comfortably, as though I still lived there.
After some excellent 'against-the-storm' driving on Nicky's behalf we finally reached San Diego (Nicky's sister's place at Del Mar Heights) at 10 pm. Sveta and Prayag, (Nicky's sis and brother-in-law) had just become proud parents of a little baby girl, Radhika. It was good to meet the Patel's (all three generations of them) after so long. We had dinner at their place while waiting for Raga to come pick me up. Raga came with Shruti and her fiance Malhar, a while later and after some post-dinner conversation, we left to go to Raga's place, my pad for the next 4 days in San Diego.
Malhar, Shruti's fiance was also visiting her from TX, that week, which meant we had each other's company for the time when Raga and Shruti would be at work. The POA for the next four days, was to visit some friends in LA, catch up with some in SD and then drive back (this time along I-5) to San Jose, with Nicky on Thursday, the 30th of December. New Year's Eve was to be spent with Raj's family and friends' partying in the San Jose Convention Center.
Turns out California decides to see it's worst-in-a-long-time weather just that week and ruin my plans. My faithful-to-the-West-Coast friends, absolute lovers of the beautiful Californian weather, decided that I had brought the depressing, cold, wet rains with me from the East Coast, to ruin their week. So plans to go to LA next day were cancelled and I spent all my time with my SD friends - not one bit regretting it though:)
I must add here, that San Diego is my different kind of a "home" in the US. Not that I have ever lived there, it's home because that's where I get pampered, spoilt, taken care of, cooked for, loved, shopped for, taken out to restaurants....and all that can be categorised as what Mom does for you, at home!!! It used to my first retreat from LA, when I lived there.
I often wish I have a SD close to me here in NYC...
......which is as close as a 2 hour bus-ride away,
......where I can always be assured of good times, good laughs,
......where I have a friend (almost my twin) who has known me for 26 years,
......another who has been there for me, through my initial unsettling days in this country
......and most importantly, a place where I am always welcome!
In the days that followed, I enjoyed myself thoroughly, catching up with friends, old and new and visiting various places in SD where Raga and I would hang out when I lived in LA. I even managed to have an old friend, Sachin, who lives in Huntington Beach, come to SD for dinner, because I couldnt go to LA and was really thrilled when he obliged.
On Thursday, Nicky and I left SD early in the morning at 6 am, to get to San Jose well before dark. The drive back was really short (6 hours), with several stops en route. The weather was beautiful and we had five rainbows alongside while driving for most part of the journey. As we reached North Cal in the afternoon, we decided to take a detour towards Fremont, to meet a friend of mine, Janvi, from architecture undergrad. Turns out, Janvi is spending her Christmas break with some family friends, who are Nicky's distant relatives. My eyes rolled, like there was no tomorrow (I have always teased Nicky at the profundity and omnipresence of her clan in the US and did not know that I was soon to see a classic example of it, myself). Having caught up with Janvi after ages, we left to resume our journey back to SJ. We must have been in the heart of Silicon Valley, as I noticed the PeopleSoft Office in Pleasanton.
Finally in the evening, after reaching Nicky's place and picking up Parthiv, three of us left to go to Rajs'. We met his family, played with his nephew Arav for a bit and then went for dinner to a 'Yan Can Cook' close by.
After dinner, we finally called it a night at Nicky's place.

San Francisco/ Sausalito/ San Jose - Day 3

Day 3 (Sunday 26th Dec 04’):
Today was my last day at Kunal's place as I was scheduled to head out to San Jose in the evening. So the plan was to head out to Sausalito, an elite island up north of the city, from where we could jog across the Golden Gate bridge.
Kunal and I had checked the timings for the ferry, which would take us across to Sausalito the next morning. However, we both woke up late:) and realised we might just be able to make it, if we cabbed it to the Ferry Terminal building. So we found ourselves running across the street and onto the pier where the ferry was to take off from, just in time to get aboard. Once aboard, we went upstairs on the upper deck to get a good view of the SF we were to leave behind and all its water-scapes.
SF was truly living up to its fogginess those days and the once-blue sky had turned grey. The result: not such great pictures, but tremendous fun all the same. It was drizzling on the deck, as I took in the receding SF skyline behind me with the Bay bridge in the distance. The Golden Gate bridge was not clearly visible, so I guessed that I would have to wait till I actually got on it, to see the remarkable 'red' of it. Alcatrass was visible in the distance and I made up my mind to visit it the next time I would be here.
Sausalito, from the ferry, appeared to have tiers of houses on its sloping water's edge. The ferry got us there in about 25 mins. As we disembarked and walked around a bit, I was reminded of O'Bahn (a similar island city, north of Glasgow, Scotland) and Martha's Vineyard, close to Boston, MA. It's the same theory: similar geographies yield similar architectural scapes, obviously! We walked by a couple of stores and restaurants, browsing around for what they had to offer. At a candy store, (Kunal has a big sweet tooth) we bought salt water taffy (I had always wanted to taste it, since I got to know how it sticks to your teeth). We decided to go to a high-end Italian restaurant, by the ocean for lunch. Somehow the place did not live up to it's standards, and we were sorely disappointed by the service and the food.
However that did not dampen the course of the rest of our day. We found out the timings of the bus that would take us to the Sausalito-end of the Golden Gate bridge, from where we could walk across it, into SF.
Turns out, we did get the bus, but due to the lack of communication on my behalf, the driver actually drove us right across the bridge, into SF and stopped there. Not ones to let go off the walking-the-bridge experience, Kunal and I alighted and decided to walk to the nearest pylon and come right back. It was windy on the bridge and the bus timings were highly erratic that Sunday - our perfect excuses for not walking the bridge's entire length.
The walk was unforgettable. The Golden Gate Bridge is one of the most beautiful structures I have ever been in, and like all of SF, it too had its own unique colour, RED. That inherently, enhanced all the pictures taken there. Since I am always drawing references, this came closest to walking on the Tower Bridge and the Millenium Bridge in London. The entire bridge spans less than 2 miles, so its practically walkable, hence walking-the-bridge is definitely on every SF tourist's must-do lists. The experience was equally awesome for Kunal as this was his first time walking across too. We joked about the presence of so many Indian's there (all staring at each other), easily differentiating between the lover's/ newly marrieds and of course the Silicon Valley junkies. It's a joke that in most of America's world-famous tourist spots such as the Niagara Falls, Golden Gate Bridge and the Empire State building you will find plenty of Indians. I must admit, I have been to all three of them and thus am a small reason of why that theory arose:)
We took the bus back close to Kunal's place as it was time for me to pick up my stuff and leave for SJ. The first part of the trip was over and I bid goodbye to him at the bus stop, to get into a MUNI which would take me to 4th and King (CalTrain station). I was to take the Southbound train and travel right through Silicon Valley to Lawrence, where Raj Sr. and Jr. were going to pick me up. The evening was to be spent at their place, meeting their family, especially Arav (Raj Sr's son) and seeing their newly bought house.
After an evening filled with socialising and home-cooked dinner (after long), I got dropped off to my friend Nicky's house in downtown SJ, close to her school SJSU. We were to pick up our rented car tomorrow early morning, to drive along Route 1 to San Diego, our destination for the next 4 days.
Among the various other inferences that are a part of my previous two days' travelogue, there are a few more that I concluded at the end of my SF trip:
As is the case with every city I travel to, I always ask myself at the end of the trip, if I can live here. The answer to that question with respect to SF is 'Yes'. For me the final word on a city and how much I loved it, rests largely with the answer to this question...Kunal, my city-mate had only one thing to say..that kind of sums it all up..."You have been following my route to every city I have lived in, from LA to NYC; and each time you lived there, after I moved out. So just let me know when you have plans to move here, It means it's time for me to move out!!
I 'll let you know Kunal, when that happens!:)

San Francisco - Day 2

Day 2 (Saturday 25th Dec 04’):
Merry Christmas!
After waking up at 7 in the morning, Kunal and I set off for our day-long tour of the city. En route we stopped by three cafe's (two of which were closed), trying to get coffee and a croissant. I had already noticed how exclusive each cafe was in SF; as Kunal had correctly put, every store tried to do its own thing here. That is why, the idea was to have coffee from a place that specialised in a certain variety of it, such as the Dutch Cafe near his place. Ironically, though we ended up with a Starbucks' cup in hand, since that was the only one open.
Christmas morning was beautiful, crisp and clear with the sun shining in a perfect blue sky. (Soon I was to see that it would be my only ideal "Californian" morning in that entire week). We overheard a lady basking in the sun, with her coffee say " I dont believe I am sitting out in the sun, having coffee on Christmas morning." She must probably come from the east coast, where Christmas is synonymous with the snow, not the sun.
We walked towards Powell St. where Kunal showed me how the trolley turned, literally on a huge wooden turn-table embedded in the ground. From Powell St. we walked towards the SF MOMA (Museum of Modern Art). Kunal is a member with them and thought we could possibly start of our day with a little bit of art. So we walked through a public plaza and the Center for the Arts to reach SF MOMA, which was celebrating Christmas day as well. That left us with two pictures of the building from the outside before we moved on to the Ferry Building while walking through the SF downtown. It was near the Ferry Building that it started sinking into me that this was California, a better version than the one I had lived in before, with its picture postcard palms dotting the blue sky and the unmissable green and white freeway signage! Since the morning was foggy, we could'nt get very clear sights of the Bay bridge in the distance. We walked inside the Ferry Terminal building, which was uncannily empty on account of the holiday. Kunal showed me his favourite fusion restaurant, where his firm had their Christmas dinner last year. That's another thing about him, he's the food and drink connoisseur, almost like a google search machine, you mention the cuisine and he will reply back with the restaurant which serves it best!
An interesting note here, on the parallels of water and architecture. The water's edge in SF was very similar in character to the Thames's bank in London. I think it was by around this time that my mind had established the hypothesis that SF was somewhere between NYC and London ( two cities I am absolutely in love with), thus making SF another one of my favourites.
From the Ferry Terminal building we boarded a MUNI bus, that took us through all the piers and dropped us off at Pier 39. I had been to Pier 39 before, almost two years ago, but somehow it seemed more made-up this time. That can possibly be attributed to my wider exposure to America now, than before. So the Pier 39 experience was highly plastic, pretentious and had this dishonest quality about it, you could feel it's desperation to be a tourist site. The best thing about Pier 39 were the mini donuts that we bought and almost finished too soon. I wondered aloud to Kunal, how this conscise version of the casual donut had not found itself more shores than this one.
From Pier 39 we took another bus which took us to the Coit Tower, from where we could see the entire city. Thankfully the fog had subsided by then, so we got some marvellous views of the city, with the piers on one side, the bridges from the other and the city fabric all over. The city's slopes lend it the unique character as do the absence of swimming pools, unlike in LA, flying over which reveals blue pools within each backyard. Another important difference between both these Californian cities. I had begun to fall in love with the 'SF-California', more dynamic, creative, open and wild as I compared it constantly with the 'LA-California', plastic, pretentious and secretive (Had I said 'dishonest' instead, it would equal my experience of Pier 39)
The next stop was to be Lombard St. (a.k.a Crooked St.), but due to holiday service, we were left with two options, either walk it up all the way or view it from far away and set off to the next destination. We opted for the latter choice and after taking a few shots of the famous street in the distance, Kunal and I got into another exclusive cafe to grab a quick bite. The cafe in North Beach specialised in freshly baked bagels and their variety, a welcome break from the typical Dunkin Donut/ street car bagels of NYC. We opted to share a bagel with various veggies in it, while we waited for the trolley. That cafe in North Beach classifies for my "Exotic taste on the trip" list - clearly a list that comprises of eateries, where I eat, on my travels and remember for the rest of my life.
At this point I must also mention some more SF trivia: As I looked at the picturesque houses dotting Lombard St. Kunal mentioned how there were specific designers these days, to allot colours to the exterior facades of the houses. Although, it kind of messed up the theory I had held so far, that these colours are more user-defined than designed, I did begin to notice how remarkably dynamic they rendered the streetscapes. Most victorian-style houses dotting the slopes of SF, had a unique vintage character and colours, but what tied them all together was the 'Bay Window'- a term ( I was convinced by the end of this trip) that comes from the omnipresence of these windows in the Bay Area. A bay window is a window which enhances the function of a window - it lets you seat yourself in it and become a part of it. It's foot print is three-sided and it usually juts out from the facade of a house, over the street. The more techincal description is as below:
Bay window -- most commonly a three-sided window extension projecting out from the wall plane and forming a recess within; delineated by an interior decorative arch, a Victorian walk-in bay window can accommodate a small sofa or chairs, while shallower bays may serve as window seats
Back to the cafe, where we ate, while waiting for the trolley. It was time for my first trolley journey in SF and another historic fact: Kunal told me every trolley in SF has been bought from various cities all over the world. Each trolley proudly displays its unique history and place of origin on its interior. You can say it was my destiny to be on one which displayed "Los Angeles" on it. Figured as far as you may want to run from it, you land right into it.
The trolley took us into Chinatown, where on my insistence, we walked a bit exploring the various shops. The SF Chinatown is the biggest one in N. America and that means it would possibly also be the most authentic one, hence my insistence. We went store to store, tasting chinese titbits, from dried fruits to dried animals (the latter I refrained from) until finally I had this sudden urge to eat dumplings. We ended up at a restaurant that did'nt serve dumplings (It was like the time when I asked for 'mochi'- a delicious japanese dessert ball at a Japanese restaurant and was told they did'nt offer it). Thought to myself, how would it be if an Indian restaurant did'nt serve samosa. Kunal's more logical explanation was that it may be a regional delicacy, hence all Japanese restaurants dont serve it.
I didnt care..I wanted my mochi, the kind I always bought in Little Tokyo, en route to SCI_Arc, and I still had'nt found it anywhere else!
Post lunch, we took off to Kunal's office which was nearby. He gave me a tour of the splendid views his office has of SF downtown/ chinatown and I noticed the designed public places for the very first time in the city. Time for more California trivia: California is primarily man-made and designed, most of the landscapes are trimmed and pruned and very rarely would you find a tuft of grass not touched by a gardener's clippers. Also, cleanliness takes on another meaning here: After living in NYC, I had forgotten that this coast of the country, believed in cleanliness,
seriously!
Kunal then called his friend Cary, who lives in Dolores Park, while I got in touch with my friend Amar who was to meet us in the city somewhere. Turned out that Amar and group were also heading to the Tea Gardens in Golden Gate Park, so we decided to meet there. Cary, works as a medical representative for Procter & Gamble (She was to market Vioxx, until it got taken off the market). She was a recent migrant to SF herself, from NYC, so we had a lot to talk about. Cary drove us to the Tea Gardens, where the three of us walked around and took in the beautiful lush surroundings of the Zen gardens. The garden was to close at 5:00 pm so Amar could'nt make it there in time to meet us.
From the garden, we took off to go to an Asian store where Kunal and Cary wanted to shop for some exclusive asian sweets. There, I finally found my 'Mochi'- the japanese dessert I have mentioned earlier.I bought a box of green tea mochi, which Kunal and I finished off before we even got out of the store, so I bought another box to take over to Raj's place the next day.
Amar had called and mentioned that he and his family were dining at this Indian restaurant called 'Shatranj' in downtown, very close to Kunal's place, so we headed off to meet him there. It was great to meet Amar after so long, although we barely got about 20 mins to talk to each other and catch up. We said goodbye to him and left to drop off our groceries at Kunal's place.
That's when Cary suddenly remembered she had forgotten to let the dog out, whom she was pet-sitting over the weekend. So three of us, took the little dog out for a walk in the evening, right across from her place, at Dolores Park. Viral had mentioned that Dolores Park has spectacular views of the city, since its on a hill. That was so true. We walked uphill on the lawns in the park and reached the top. As we turned around, this mosaic of lights just spread out before us; from suburban houses, to tall buildings in downtown and even the silhouette of the Bay bridge in the distance. It was similar to the night view, I had witnessed before, of LA, from a friends house on the hill top. It was like the perfect end-of-the-day feast, SF on a platter. I tried my best at steady-hand photography, with some success while Kunal and Cary walked the dog. When we were done, I had about 20 pictures to choose from.
Thus ended my second day in SF, full of walking up and down the streets of different parts of the city, viewing the 'bay' and the 'bay windows' and most of all always admiring the horizon up ahead - as unique as the sloping city it belonged to...
...3/4th street, 1/4th blue sky!

New York to San Francisco - Day 1

After one and a half years, I decided to go back to what had been my first destination in the US - California. As the plan was conceived, it grew ambitiously from a long-weekend in California to almost ten days touring its entire North-South length. I took a week off from work, between the two long weekends of Christmas and New Years and flew westwards.
Day 1 (Friday 24th Dec 04’):
Raj and I left for San Francisco this morning, from JFK expecting to take our pre-scheduled flight at 10:30 am. As goes my luck with flights, this flight was oversold and all volunteers for the next flight were offered a free round-trip to any United destination in the US. Since we were on vacation, I was game but Raj was a little hesitant. Eventually though, as my luck would have it, I was scheduled to fly on the later flight and Raj could travel on the pre-scheduled one. But since we were travelling together, we both stayed back for the later flight and pocketed the free tickets. Started of the vacation in profit:)
On the flight, time was spent talking most of the time (This was our first flight together and I was telling Raj how much fun it was when Raga and I flew together earlier this year). I also discovered the assets of a long-battery life in a laptop (that Raj perpetually keeps bragging about), when we watched a Hindi movie (Hulchul) on his laptop and the battery still kept running after that. A six hour flight reduces to half its duration with a Hindi film. Cool!
At SF airport, our baggage had already arrived and with it we waited for Raj Sr. ( Raj's elder brother, a.k.a RajMohan) who was to pick up Raj Jr. ( a.k.a RajSekhar). For convenience and to avoid confusion, two years ago when I met them both together, I started using these suffixes for this set of brothers, both otherwise referred to as 'Raj' by their respective friends. After greeting Raj Sr. and chatting up with him for a while, we bid goodbye and I set out to take the BART to Powell Station, as advised by my host for the city, Kunal.
Kunal is a senior of mine from my MR+D (Masters' days) at SCI_Arc. Since our program is only a year long, the outgoing batch meets the incoming one, for exactly one day - their graduation. Around that time, in May 2002 is when Kunal and I first met in LA. Since then we have barely spent two days in the same city, but have graduated to becoming 'city-mates' ( a term that can be loosely described as a mate with whom a city is seen). Kunal showed me Los Angeles, part of New York and now San Fransisco.
In the BART, I looked at the SF city map, bleakly reminiscent of NYC. As I later told Kunal, SF was a lot like NYC on the map ( only without Staten Island and with Brooklyn actually extending further South of Manhattan), Of course later, I was to discover that the distances were far lesser in this city that I was going to transcend in the following two days.
Powell St. where Kunal picked me up from, is the shopping hub of SF. We walked from Powell Station, passing Union Square through a medley of tourists ( mostly Indians, to our astonishment and amusement). Later we realised, that since it was Christmas eve, we obviously would'nt find locals roaming the streets, unless they are really late in shopping for gifts. Union Square, reminded of a similar square in the heart of Downtown LA and of course of Bryant Park; a wide public space surrounded by tall buildings in downtown New York City.
As we continued to walk towards Kunal's place, I was introduced to the sloping SF streets, a characteristic of SF I will always remember. I remember telling Kunal at the end of my trip, that I barely remember my feet being perfectly horizontal in this trip. Besides, the two rare times that I wore heels, trekking up and down the slopes was quite a fiasco.
On reaching Kunals place, we invited his next door neighbour Viral over. "Mumbai-talking" is my personal phrase for the following: Meeting someone from Mumbai who knows the half of Mumbai I know. Viral is an architect from Mumbai, like Kunal and me, so we Mumbai-talked for a while, while Viral ate his dinner and we watched. Then we architects got in action - our natural instincts to conversate over maps got the better of us, and three of us delved on the SF city maps, trying to plan my weekend there.
Interesting aspects from the conversation were how SF was a square 7 mile x 7 mile city, the Golden Gate park was larger than the Central Park (in NYC), the various transportation options I could pursue in the city and that SF was 93% liberal and 7% conservative in the 2004 presidential polls. After planning tomorrows POA, Viral left to get me some more maps/ books on the city and his MUNI pass to use over the next day. Kunal later mentioned how he has never seen Viral be this generous to anyone.
What can I say Kunal, I just cant help bringing out the good side in everyone:)
After refreshing myself, Kunal and I left to take my first bus ride in the city to a place called Fillmore; a quaint little locality with exclusive designer stores, ranging from clothes to furniture; kind of like a SOHO equivalent, only more SF in nature. Every store window we glanced into, reminded me of the stores in London, where extensive attention was given to design. I remember telling Kunal how non-American the SF experience was because of qualities such as these. NYC has this non-American feel to it, it is lesser a part of America, more a part of the World-City syndrome. SF, on the other hand, just did'nt seem to care, like a reckless child, it just did what it wants and you can either accept that or leave it. "We are like this only" it seemed to say to me. Kunal mentioned as we looked up at a window in one of the buildings "Only in SF will you find someone putting up a lit "peace" sign instead of a snowflake at Christmas" As we walked upwards and downwards, the horizon kept decreasing to reveal a dark ocean with dotted lights in the distance. We finally paused at a junction where the road sloped so steeply, that the sidewalk was actually a stair...incredible! From there we took in the marvellous night view of the bay and the lights in the distance. It had still not sunk into me that I was in California, somehow this did not seem like the California I had lived in for a year!
We walked back on the other side of the street, looking for a store Kunal's office was designing at the time. Of the few restaurants, we found a Vietnamese place open, where we decided to dine and catch up on our lives since we last met. Post dinner, some walking and a bus-ride later, we got back home and called it a day, since I was still on NY time and tomorrow we were to set out at 6:00 am.

Snehi!

Today Snehi sent out an email saying that she is finally getting married on the 2nd of May 05'.
Snehi has come a long way from her immature, cranky days to her mature, can-laugh-at-herself ones. Throughout all these years of our friendship ( 14 years I think), she has been my classmate, close friend, critic and even inspiration at times. But the one thing she has always been, is an unbiased shoulder I could lean on, someone who has always loved me and accepted me the way I am. In fact, I can take the liberty of saying that my other two close friends ( also part of our group) who live in the US now, feel the same.
Snehi and I have lived in different countries for the past three years and are not exactly in regular touch. Yet when we meet, we pick up from where we last left off. She is one of the few people, who cherishes and values my friendship as I do hers and I know she will be there for me, come what may.
Looking back, I feel good about having made the Agra trip with her when I was home a couple of months ago and I remember her saying to me then, " Sweetoo, the next time we meet, I will be married!"

That is why, today is a special day for me and my other two friends who are far away from her, but will celebrate all the same!!

Toasting to Snehi and her happiness to come:)

Swades...

Easily one of the best movies I 've seen in a very long time...Being a hopeless romantic myself, I can relate to the script of the movie and the character of the protagonist himself.

I know a movie moves me, when it brings a tear in my eye and goose bumps on my hand...all for the love of my country!

GOOD WATCH: Swades

Orange!

One of the most beautiful sunsets I' ve ever seen...that too from my office toilet window!

This is why I carry my camera with me everyday:)

http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/shweyta/album?.dir=/c215

Enjoy!

Of big cities and big calamities...

As I type this, I am back at my desk from an hour long fire-evacuation trip, which took the whole office down 28 floors, through the fire staircase. Not to mention, this has been my first fire-evacuation experience ever, but its strange how the experience varied from what could have been an unofficial holiday back home, in India.
The fire alarm set off and we were asked to evacuate the office. Before leaving my desk though, I did think if I should take my marble Taj Mahal and 4 pairs of shoes with me ( just in case the fire got our office too). Common sense prevailed and I did'nt bother. Everyone went down the fire staircase, giggling and joking most of the time. It was strange as the whole office has never left work together, so at first it seemed like a leisure excursion, sort of an alternative version of the birthday-lunches we have at work often.
Once down, we crossed over to the other side of 7th Ave. as per fire regulations and looked up, craning our necks to see if the 41st floor was ablaze. No sign of fire, atleast from the outside. Five huge fire trucks and atleast 20 fire-men in sight though, 2 of whom were busy posing for photographs with tourists. Must be tough, having to be a hero and a celebrity all at once.
The New York spirit revealed itself again; the posh new Bank of America across the street, threw open its doors for us; the manager saying "It's cold out there, come on in, we have a huge lobby." We gladly accepted.
My more fashionable colleagues took off to Macy's, some left for an early lunch, newly married Manhattan-ites went home for bonus-time with spouse and some of us just stood there, taking in the whole scene, cracking more jokes and ogling at the good looking fire-men. Finally, the fire men were out of the building, in a matter of an hour and we were allowed to go upstairs using the freight elevator. Work, of course resumed to normal, as if nothing had happened.

It's been a year and a half since I moved into NYC and I ve come to realise that calamities in this city are as big as the city itself; by magnitude of intensity.
From the 2003 Blackout, routine fire evacuations in the office building, deaths in the subway (Raj was delayed for school yesterday since a homeless guy collapsed with a heart attack and died in the N train) to the ubiquity of ambulance/ fire engine sirens, that the city is known for, the intensity of accidents in NYC is nowhere near normal. Yet, what you perceive as normal is merely what you experience on a day-to-day basis...the events I have listed above have all been witnessed by me, since I moved here...
Would it then be "normal" to say that I feel immune to most of them now?

Mumbai...

...Can live with it...Can't live without it!
:)

Taj Mahal - Day 3

Day 3 (Sunday 12th Sept 04’):
As decided the previous night, we woke up at 4:30 am. Today was to be a big day, we were going to finally see the Taj Mahal, for the very first time in our lives. After the regular morning routine and a good English breakfast, Snehi and I left to go see the Taj Mahal, which thankfully to the convenience of a lot of time-constrained tourists like us, opens at 6:00 am. The hotel manager had told us that we could choose to walk for 15 mins or take a cycle rickshaw to the Taj. Due to heavy pollution effects being manifest on the Taj's white marble, the government has levied restraints on traffic in the vicinity of the monument. Now only man-driven cycle rickshaws or pedestrians are allowed to venture within a certain radius of the monument, to avoid it from further cosmetic damage, as the white marble has started turning yellow. We luckily found a cycle rickshaw outside the hotel and settled him to take us to the Taj for Rs. 20. It's amazing to see the polarities we have reached in India; how some parts of the country still continue to function fairly well in amounts, for which in other parts of the country you could'nt even buy a good lunch. Even within developing nations like ours, there exist typologies of developed and developing cities. It's just about the degree of variation and relativity with which you compare them to each other. Anyways, so we managed to get to the Taj by 6:15 am, about 15 mins behind schedule. Thankfully, we were visiting at off-season time, so there was hardly a queue for tickets. Being Indian helped, as we had to pay less than 1/10th the price for a foreigners ticket. The board over the ticket window clearly read : Indians: Rs 40. Foreigners/ Non Indians: Rs 500.
One nation's subsidy, another nation's discrimination? Flanged by tour - guides offering their services to us at competitive and therefore tempting rates, Snehi and I finally picked our guide for the morning. A dark, stout, henna-haired, paan-chewing Muslim gentleman. This was going to be a memorable tour; he was going to be a guide Snehi and I would never forget. Making our way through the security checks ( different boths for men and women) we discovered that mobile phones were not allowed inside. So Snehi had to rush to the nearby locker room as pointed out by the lady guard to deposit her phone there. All set after that, we finally entered the Taj Mahal complex through an arcaded forecourt where some of Shahjahan's other queens lie buried. The forecourt also has the Jilau Khana, a bazaar with cloisters leading to the main entrance of the tomb. The imposing gateway is made of red sandstone highlighted with marble and has octagonal kiosks on top. It is an imposing 30 metres high and a fitting entrance to the Taj Mahal, inscribed with a beautiful design of inlaid flowers and calligraphy. As we walked on this path, towards the arched doorway, our guide kept telling us about the Taj and Shahjehan, the ruler who built it for his dear wife Mumtaz Mahal. Mumtaz Mahal, who died while delivering her 14th child, was deeply loved by Shahjehan. On her death, the royal court kept away from celebrations of any kind for two whole years. On her deathbed though, Mumtaz Mahal made Shahjehan promise her two things; that he would not remarry after her death and that he would build a tomb for her which would be an outstanding monument, one reflective of his unsurmountable love for her. As Snehi and I heard these stories, the corrupt 21st century women that we are, we kept giggling ( which obviously annoyed our guide) at the assertiveness and diplomacy of the queen, who knew how to control her man, even after she was long gone. We certainly had a lot to learn here:) What made our guide really memorable and annoying to Snehi, was that he insisted on knowing the best spots from where the Taj should be photographed. So everytime I wanted to take a picture, I would be dragged by the guide ( who would carelessly hold my hand) and make me stand on certain invisible points marked on the ground, from where I was to photograph the vista. By the end of the tour, I had let go of my original ideas to photograph the Taj based on my photographic instincts, instead Snehi, my Nikon and I found ourselves dancing literally to the tunes of the our guide. Was this just an Agra-guide thing, or did all tour guides feel that they had a rightful authority over their customers and their cameras? There really is a very thin line in a tour- guide's job description; between being your "guide" ( which is why they are called that in the first place) during the tour and actually forcibly designing your experience and imposing it on you. Just about then we had caught our first glimpse of what could be the Taj's dome over the complex wall. My bias for the "element of surprise" in architecture, somehow made me disagree with Snehi when she yelled out; "Shwets, see that's the Taj". I was more like "No Snehi, It will not be visible till we reach a certain point such as the arched doorway coming up further"....I felt like there was a ceremonial route we had to embark upon, at the end of which we would see the grandTaj. As we walked up ahead, we entered the dark octagonal chamber under the gateway (the light streaming in from the opposite doorway draws you towards it). Here, framed by the arch of the doorway, the Taj Mahal reveals itself to the viewer with dramatic power. At the end of a long walkway, framed by landscaped gardens and an ever-changing sky, the Taj Mahal's snowy marble glittered in the sunlight as I said "Snehi, That's the Taj." What followed was a Taj-Mahal moment! Both of us were stunned beyond words can convey on our first glimpse of the Taj...It was White!!!..a Stunning White structure against a beautiful cyan backdrop, like a perfect painting...a small piece of what Heaven may look like! Thankfully our guide let us have our two minutes of magic, without interruptions, following which of course was a photo shoot all directed by him. The Taj Mahal stands at one side of a garden laid in the tradition charbagh style, with its square lawns bisected by pathways, water channels and rows of fountains. Halfway down the path there is a square pool, its limpid waters reflecting the marble tomb. Unlike other tombs, Taj Mahal stands at one end of the garden instead the centre. This was done deliberately, to leave its vista uncluttered by any other building. The Taj Mahal took 22 years to build and as is well known, all the masons involved in the process had to part with their hands, as Shahjehan wanted to ensure that his monument would never be duplicated. Turns out his own son Aurangzeb's tomb in Aurangabad, called "Bibi ka Maqbara" built at the end of the Mughal era in India, is a cheaper duplicate version of the Taj. Being early in the morning, the place was not very crowded. As is the experience of many, Snehi and I were drawn towards the monument, from the moment we saw it. Luckily the guide did not insist on stopping anywhere on the path in between. It was a beautiful day and time to see the Taj, as the morning sky was crisp, clear and a perfect shade of blue. The sun had just risen and its early morning rays were beginning to create the magic on the gems studded within the facade of the Taj's various arches. Only as you walk towards it, do you actually realise the scale of the monument. "It makes you feel so small, you have no choice but to be in awe of it" I told Snehi. We reached the famous white marble seat in front of the monument, where every visitor to the Taj, sits and takes a picture. Bill Clinton and his daughter Chelsea did it, Musharraf and his wife did it...today Snehi and I did it! We sat together/ alone on the seat and took our classic picture in front of the Taj, on the marble seat ( which proudly hangs in my office now) After a little more walking, we were on the plinth of the Taj. The plinth stands on a high standstone platform and at the far ends of this base are two identical sandstone structures, a mosque to the west and its jawab, or echo, to the east. This was the mehman khana or guesthouse. Thus, the main building is not just of great size but beautifully proportioned and balanced in design, perfectly symmetrical along both its axes. The only asymmetrical aspect as our guide pointed out to us later, was Shahjehan's tomb which lay to the left of Mumtaz Mahal's in the cellar below the monument. The original idea of keeping the monument truly symmetrical was corrupted when Aurangzeb (Shahjehan's wicked son), realised that his dad has plans of making a similar tomb for himself, but in Black marble which would stand right across the Yamuna river. If only Aurangzeb would have let him do it, today we would proudly have two wonders in the world, standing face to face in Agra. But as our guide animatedly described to us, Aurangzeb was in no mood to let his dad spend a few more crores of ruppees in building the Black Taj. Instead, he plotted the death of his two other brothers by packing them off to war and after throwing his father in prison ( in the Agra fort) claimed the throne for himself. The only consolation he made, was to give his dad an access to a view of the Taj, from the windows on the top of the fort. We sadly couldnt make time in our tight itinerary to visit the fort, but we were told that the fort had a telescopic lens in the window on the top, which facilitated Shahjehan's viewing of his departed wife's tomb in his last days. Had to be true love, as they call it! Walking around the monument, the guide showed us the various artistic features imbibed on the monument, including Arabic writings which distorted perspective to inscriptions of gem stones laid out to receive light in patterns. Pointing towards the minarets on the four sides of the Taj, he shared more trivia: Apparently a lot of Romeo's ( lost in love) had plunged to their death from the minarets, thanks to whom the minarets were now not accessible by regular tourists. He also said we had good timing, as the cellar containing Mumtaz Mahal and Shahjehan's tombs was open for view; done so only for three days a year, during Mumtaz Mahal's death anniversary. The Taj has an identical tomb built exactly above the cellar, on the entrance level, so that visitors do not tread the ground directly above the original tombs. We went down the narrow staircase to the cellar and paid our respects to the royal tombs. The guide showed us an inscribed circle, app. 5 inches in diameter on Shahjehan's tomb, explaining that this is where the Kohinoor diamond rested before it was "stolen" by the British and taken to London. It was another Taj Mahal moment, briefly declaring my London-Agra trip as a "Kohinoor quest: Then and Now"...In London, I had seen the India's most treasured (and stolen) export to Britain, in it's present home at the Tower Bridge museum and in India, I had seen where it originally lived in the glorious years of the Mughal era. Snehi and I, then visited the rear courtyard of the monument, where the guide showed us the blueprint ( kind of a silhouette drawing scaled 1:1 in the courtyard behind) of the spire on top of the dome. It was also here, in the rear court that our guide completely stunned Snehi, when he took both of us by our hands, made us stand on either side of him on another invisible vantage point, to show us the rear Taj view. Snehi was disgusted, as she truly believed the guide's frequent physical maneouvers were attempts at trying to achieve physical proximity with us. I was'nt too sure whether it was this, or he was just trying to be an assertive father-figure like our other guides on this trip had been. A few more photographs later, we found ourselves looking at our watches, as it was time for us to leave the Taj and get back to our hotel. As we headed out of the monument, we were joined by a guard with his suspicious police-dog sniffing all over the place. The guard told us security measures had been tightened around the Taj recently, as had been cleanliness measures, especially since it was declared a World Heritage site by the UNESCO in he year 2000. The experience had been a mixed one, a short but certainly an infallible one. As we stepped out of the Taj complex, through the same archway we had entered, Snehi and I looked back for one last glimpse of the Taj, from the very place we had had our first one. Somehow, it may seem to be romanticised, this experience we had, but you cannot escape the romance in the air at this site. This was history, it was'nt mythology and it was all for love.
The headstrong romantic in me, loved the idea that love can be manifest at this scale; the passionate designer in me loved the idea that it can be done so in one of man's most accurate, simple and beautifully constructed built forms; the poet in me agrees with Rabindranath Tagore.."The Taj is a tear on the face of eternity!"
Thus ended our three day whirlwind tour of Agra;
Time well spent..
...with an old friend
...with an old monument
...in my old home, India!

Mumbai/ Agra - Day 1

Prelude:
My manager and associate-boss had been to India, after their client meeting in China. They visited India for three days, of which they spent each day at one tip of the Golden Triangle (Delhi-Jaipur-Agra). On their return; I was told several stories of their experiences in India and most of all at the Taj Mahal in Agra. After the beautiful rendition of their first reactions at seeing the Taj, they looked at me with a "You know this..You must've been there, right?". I answered with a sheepish grin"No, actually I havent"...to myself I said "In 23 goddamn years of my life spent in India and having widely travelled within the country, this is one place I have'nt been to". Thus; with immense shame and unshakeable resolve, I made up my mind to visit the Taj, in the 3 weeks that I was to spend in India.
Day 1 (Friday 10th Sept 04’):
Snehi, my long time school friend promised to accompany me on this trip, but with a restricted budget and time-frame. (I was and still am very thankful to Snehi, for accomodating my random and rushed plans to Agra, in her tight schedule and pocket:) So we decided to take a train to Agra ( A/C 1st Class was unanimously agreed upon).
Mom insisted on taking the day off work, to be able to drop me to Kurla Terminus, now called Lokmanya Tilak Terminus (renamed a few years ago, in the wake of the nationalistic temperament, instigated by the Shiv Sena in the country for overwriting every "English" name with a regional one). She wanted to assure that I get to the terminus safely, since now I was an NRI, typical behaviour expected of most moms' I know, when their NRI kids return home for vacation. Snehi was to meet me at the train station directly.
I was surprised and very impressed to see that our train left exactly on time. Before leaving the station, a gentleman came up to us and asked us where we were headed to. When we replied "Agra", he requested us to keep an eye on his old mother, travelling in the adjacent six-seater. Snehi being the blessed soul that she is, promptly agreed and assured him that we would take very good care of her and the man alighted the train; a satisfied soul. Another one of those train episodes, which could only happen in India; where travellers take the liberty of entrusting their responsibilities, with their fellow travellers, then be it the care-taking of their aging parents, young children or even their luggage; things you miss sometimes when you live outside India.
Snehi and I seemed to be the only two people in our six-seater cabin in the train compartment, so we sprawled out, literally, reading our respective books. We had never ever vacationed together, in the past 13 years of knowing each other and being close friends, so this trip was definitely special to both of us.
Amidst endless laughter and foolish remarks, we spent the first few hours of our train journey. Snehi kept worrying herself and irritating me by asking me frequently "Do I look provocative, lying down like this?", to which I would always reply with a smirky "No!" It was my first train journey after May 2001, when I went with some friends to Ahmedabad and Delhi for thesis based research. So; it was interesting to note the differences that a train journey involved in this new "shining" India.
Being mobile in India meant, that Snehi was free to conduct her remaining hours of the day's work, on the phone. Among many official calls, Snehi dearest, spent some of her time on the phone with her boyfriend Atit, who had conveniently decided to excuse himself from this trip, blaming our random travel plans as a big waste of time.
Eating in the train was another flavour of a train journey in India. Mom had made sure we would'nt buy too much food on the train, so she had packed us a bundle of lunch, all of which to our surprise, was consumed within 10 mins by both Snehi and I. There were some snacks which were packed for tea-time for both this evening and the next morning, but we gulped all that down instantaneously. So there really was no other option but to buy food on the train, since we were still hungry. I think there's something about travelling in a train, that adds to one's hunger.
Simply put, the food from the train canteen was disgusting. So it would'nt be wrong to say that we slept on a hungry stomach and Snehi telling me " Why could'nt you ask your mom to pack more?" I guess Mom just did'nt realise the pack of hungry wolves she was dealing with here, twenty parathas down between the two of us and we were still hungry.
Thus, a lot of chit-chatting, mobile phone conversations, St. Snehi checking-in on the old lady in the next six-seater later, we got back to our books, me to my "India Unbound" by Gurcharan Das and Snehi to some romantic/ mushy girly crap that she's been reading ever since we were 13. Truly; a book speaks loads for who you really are! :)
A while later, in sincere emulation of the Indian- train travel ethic, we arranged our bags on our seats and placing our heads on them, called it a night. For the unaware, this is done so that if someone decides to steal your bags, he would have to do so from under your head; thus with a possibility that he may wake you up in the process:) That I couldnt sleep and kept tossing and turning all night long, is not really because I was worried of thugs. It was just that I had realised, I am a no-sleeper on the lowest-sleeper. Snehi on the other hand, did'nt seem to mind if she was sleeping on a berth or a wall. This was officially, her third nap of the day.
Sleeping in the train, ( if I am on the uppermost berth) is a thrilling experience; especially due to the trains lateral motion. I know people who cannot sleep a wink on the train, hence were naturally made watch-men while the others slept in peace.
Since I had no intentions of being a watch-woman, I put myself to sleep on some soothing jazz interspersed with the trains "tadakk-tadakk" in absolute rhythm.

Mumbai....

...Can't live with it...Can't live without it!

London-Oxford in pictures!

Finally managed to upload, label and format all the pictures online.

http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/shweyta/album?.dir=7282&.src=ph&store=&prodid=&.done=http%3a//pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/shweyta/my_photos

Oxford/ Basingstoke - Day 8

Day 8 (Saturday 28th Aug 04’):
A late morning and a weather-check later, SD, Yash and I set off in the car to Oxford. The POA was to get to the city, park in the huge parking lot outside it and then board the famous green d-d bus that takes tourists into the city. As SD explained, having huge and free parking lots outside towns and smaller cities, encouraged people to leave behind their cars and use the public transport within the city, a concept frequently observed in the UK. So we set off on a beautiful hour-long drive; ( my deja-vu: drive between Edinburgh and O'Bahn, about a couple of years ago, except that Icchita was missing in this one as she had to work that Saturday) On an alternative note, the drive through the virgin Scottish countryside remains my favourite drive to date. An hour later we found ourselves parked in the parking lot and waiting for the green d-d bus to take us into Oxford City, the city of the dreaming spires as they call it. Entering Oxford, felt like entering an archaic Victorian movie set or the sorts. The town, as I have mentioned before of London, had a very intimate scale, from the streetscape to some of the monuments. Oxford stands true to the same description, but it is a city of a much smaller scale than London. If in London, one sees a collage of the old and the new, in Oxford, one sees the dominance of the old over the new in Oxford. As our tour guide explained to us, the name Oxford was derived through an interesting story: Oxford grew up at the conjunction of two rivers, the Thames and the Cherwell (pronounced Char-well). Indeed, the very reason for Oxford's existence was the presence of a ford for oxen crossing the Thames (that ford was located near the present Folly Bridge). Hence; the name of the city. As we boarded our d-d bus that would take us on a cyclic tour of the city, I had another deja-vu of a time in the past when I last visited an academicia so renowned for its intelligent productions. It was at Harvard Square in Boston. The Oxford experience however topped the Harvard one in the same aspects as any place in Europe tops over that in the US: an authenticity and a rich historical past. Harvard enamours me with its scholarly ambience, Oxford on the other hand, reeks of knowledge. There was a sudden excitement and a glint of recognition in our eyes as the guide rambled upon names as we drove past the various universities and their campuses; Sir Winston Churchill, Agatha Christie, Sir Lewis Carroll, Indira Gandhi, Tony Blair, Rowan Atkinson. There was a whole new meaning to the word "campus" here as each university had sprawling lawns and beautifully kept gardens. My personal favourites were The Trinity College lawns, had I to make a choice of my school in the city. To a self-proclaimed romantic like me, the idea of going to school in this thick cultural context, among lush greenery and high spires with bells tolling was very appealing; almost like living the life of a princess in Victorian times. They say that education at Oxford is considered one of the best even today, simply because the universities here believe in imparting the knowledge needed to think, as against delivering the goods directly in most modern universities. It being a Saturday, we were'nt able to spot too many students in the universities. There were however a lot of young people everywhere else in the city, as guides, shop-keepers and ofcourse waiting on tables in restaurants. I thus; could'nt help but be in awe of this young kid (with a load of piercings over his face) who waited on our table in the restaurant where we had lunch. (He had mentioned earlier, rather casually, that he was studying law at the Trinity College, Oxford.) After two whole rounds on the cyclic bus tour ( the first one to see the city, the second one to experience it) and lunch, we walked through some tourist shops. My dad had mentioned bringing an Oxford dictionary back home, not that it could'nt be found anywhere, but all the same; for authenticity's sake. So I armed myself with two little Oxford Mini dictionaries at the store and then we got onto the d-d bus. The drive back was more beautiful in the dusk as the mountains wore a dull green over their natural blue against the ochre backdrop. After coming back home, a scrumptious spread lay out for my dinner, following which I found myself in an "UNO" competition with little Yash. This was the official end to my UK tour, as tomorrow I was to leave for Mumbai, from LHR at 10:00 am.
So with another long chat with SD and Icchita, we called it a night. Tomorrow SD was to drop me to the airport at 8 am for the next phase of my vacation....in Mumbai, India - my first home ever!
Thus ended one of my most memorable vacations ever, partly as I had experienced the city all by myself for most of the time and partly as I had spent quality time with family and friends after long.
Since I have already interspersed my afterthoughts in the previous notes, I will not surmise them here at the end. Instead I'll leave with the same promise I made to myself when I left London : to return as often as I can!

Basingstoke/ London - Day 7

Day 7 (Friday 27th Aug 04’):
Spent the first half of the day packing as the remaining few days seemed hectically planned. Being a Friday night, the plan was to party in London. D & A along with Salim were to hook up with V & me, to party in some place which was very “London” that evening.
The afternoon was to be spent colouring my hair at Sandra’s place. Sandra and Jack came over in the afternoon to pick up Icchita, Yash and me to go to their place. This was my first typical English home visit (D & A’s was actually my first, but their’s had a desi feel to it, unlike Sandra’s which was as English as it gets). To elaborate on that phrase, it had the conventional wall-paper look, quaint little staircase, blue and yellow on the walls, green and pink on others. The kitchen had its own little backyard and garden with a white picket fence and tiny little kettles and other show objects all over the kitchen display units. The tea kettle was on the stove, ready to boil and uniform little transparent air-tight boxes held biscuits, that we were soon to consume at tea-time. The scale of the place was small, intimate and thus, cosy, just like the d-d buses or the cobbled pathways that wind in and out of some parts of Central London. My pleasure at being given the grand tour of the place by little Jack, was limitless, partly due to my inquisition-of-spaces-where-people-live (a trait, my profession has given me) and partly as I realized my growing love for anything English:) I was also beginning to adore Jack, as he excitedly pulled my hand and took me up and down his house, desperately trying to show me the whole place. (BTW, I had been unanimously christened as “Swee” by Yash and Jack; on account of my name “Sweetoo” being too long to pronounce). So after a whole lot of “Swee, come this way”, “Swee, this is my granna and granpa in the picture”, “Swee, Would you like to play Uno?”, I was taken away by Icchita and Sandra for my hair colouring stint and Jack and Yash were packed off in the playroom.
About 2 hrs later, Sandra, Ichhita and I sat in the yellow kitchen, with tea and biscuits waiting for the colour to set into my hair. A hair-wash and dry later, Sandra and Ichhita gathered around me to admire the way the red had set in. When I went into the playroom to show-off my hair to the kids, I was quite disappointed to see them say politely “It’s nice” alone. Little kids on their way to becoming disinterested men, I said to myself. However; Jack had all sorts of questions for me a little while later, when I was about to leave, ranging from who I was going out with that night and was I going to dance? etc.. The hair colour looked beautiful and I was all set to rock that night, in London. Sandra and Jack drove us back home and then drove off with Yash as he insisted on visiting Jack’s granna. I got dressed and waited for SD to get back home so he could take me to the B’toke station, where I was to catch a train to London Waterloo.
V had ended up going home earlier from work, since it was a long weekend (It was my mistake to let him to do that, as he ended up crashing and not waking up until some 20 hours later). V hence; was not a part of my Friday night partying in London. At B’toke station, I had a rather friendly conversation with an English ticketing officer; another one of those random conversations between a local and a tourist. The T.O expressed his desire to come to the US and see Yosemite and Yellow Stone Park instead of NYC, saying he was not a very city kind of a person. I told him how much I loved London and then politely took his leave. Found myself on the 19:24 train to London Waterloo, a few mins later, while trying V’s number several times hoping his cell phone rings will wake him up but to no avail.
From London Waterloo took the 243 to Clarkenwell Green to D & A’s office. Was thrilled to see how D & A argued over where they could take me tonight “ It has to be a very London-place” one said to the other, followed by almost 5 names of bars in Shoreditch. After a series of arguments, Salim, D, A & I found ourselves sitting in MotherBar, a minimally designed concrete ambience with red wine, champagne, beer and good music. Realised how used to I was, with a non-smoking ambience, coming from NYC and that I had to now re-tune myself with the exact opposite for the rest of my vacation (in London and in Bombay). Some good times, a lot of drinks and pictures later we emerged from the bar well past midnight, when I realized I had to head back to London Waterloo to catch my last train back to SD's. Somehow I convinced my friends that I must leave now and dissuaded Atrey from calling SD to let him know that I was staying the night. We stood at the 243 bus stop, waiting for the bus, amidst our usual post-drinking chaos and laughter. Finally; I was aboard a bus, on my way to catching the last train at Waterloo. As I was getting out of Central London, got the feeling that I will miss it even more as I saw revelers doing what they do best on a Friday night: Hang out (literally outside on the pavements) of the bars and pubs.
The bus ended up taking a different route and luckily I was’nt drunk enough to realize that late, so got off it in the nick of time, at this side of the Thames. Realised that I had to cross the entire bridge and get to Waterloo myself and I had barely 5 mins to do that. So my sprint across the Thames’ on the Waterloo Bridge started, that too in heeled boots. What a let down to the amazing high I had just a few mins ago…however It was one of the most memorable sprints of my life, and I guess the best one ever, with a fabulous view. I did make it in time for my last train, made a call to SD letting him know when I would reach B’toke, a call to Dipal letting her know I was safe and in time for my train.
Caught the train, thankfully it was’nt as empty as D & A had tried to scare me earlier in futile attempts of having me stay back. (There is no equal to the pampering your friends/ family extend to you, when you see them after so long) SD picked me up at B’toke station and after a short briefing on tomorrow’s plans, it was bed time.
Tomorrow was going to be Oxford day.

Basingstoke - Day 6

Day 6 (Thursday 26th Aug 04’):
Slept late, woke up late, spent the first half of the day browsing the net, checking/ replying to emails etc. Finally made friends with Yash who is always shy when he meets me first, but opens up the next day. That is also when he starts barging you with numerous questions in his cute little accent.
Met Sandra, Ichhita’s English friend. Sandra is a single mom, whose son Jack is Yash’s best mate (pronounce as “might”) in school. Jack is an adorable six yr old, white, quite podgy and an extremely cute little gentleman. He and Yash argue a lot, but really have not much choice but to get along, as their Mom’s are great friends. Sandra came over to meet me, (this whole meet-the-guest-from-NYC fest had begun I gathered, with more of it to continue in Bombay as well). As I chatted with Sandra, I discovered that she had been born in London, but had just recently visited it for the first time ever after she moved out to live in B’toke. She worked with the City of B’toke and as a hobby, practiced hair-dressing. That’s when the whole “let-me-colour-your-hair” stint started and as ready as I always am to experiment with my locks, I gave in. The choice was two colours, a dull red of course ( this is the third time I am colouring my hair red) and a shiny brown to complement it, as Sandra said, over the crown. So her visit more or less became like a pre-colouring session, as we went through the various shades of colour and she explained to me how she did Icchita’s hair (Ichhita has this really cool bob with red streaks which makes her look very European, quite a transition from how I had seen her last time in Edinburgh, two years ago).
After a while, Sandra and Ichhita left for work and Yash and I chilled out at home, making a colour-paper house together, over watching Thomas (Yash’s favourite engine) run along the tracks with his friends. When Ichhita returned, we ate a fabulous desi home-cooked meal and Yash, Icchita and I set out towards the bus stop to get to the Town Centre to window-shop. While there, I came across a good book sale and a few books (each worth 99p) and some good crepes later, we were back at the bus stop. V called and I invited him home for dinner. We co-ordinated our plans so that he could meet us at the Bus stop and we all got back home together.
Ichhita cooked up some fabulous Soul Kadhi and a million other tasty delicacies while SD, V and I chatted up. V was happy (His happiness is directly proportional to the food you provide him) as this was the first desi home he was visiting in B’toke. So after 4 hours of time well spent discussing anything from Working in the US Vs Working in the UK, to my hair-colouring stint next afternoon, V bid us goodbye and thus ended my least-hectic day in the UK, as far this trip was concerned.

London - Day 5

Day 5 (Wednesday 25th Aug 04’):
Woke up early at 7 am; (the drill-work on the roof and the smell of tar did it for me). After our regular morning routine, D, A & myself left for Harrod’s. Since it was my last day with them, D & A decided to spend half a day, sight seeing with me. We took the bus and reached Harrod’s to explore London’s most famous retail outlet and the most-visited one by the who’s-who of the world. Checked out the Egyptian Hall’s of the store and realized it had a unique cultural feel to itself, quite much like London City itself. On reaching the food level of the store, lost all sense of a 26 yr old when I saw Samosa’s and Wada’s for sale. Did’nt however buy them as they were cold. A & D told me that the Samosa was Britain’s national snack, to be found everywhere you go, not just exclusive to Indian stores/ restaurants and Chicken Tandoori was the official favourite dish.
Food for thought? I fell a little more in love with Britain. Note: It wasn’t the samosa or the tandoori chicken alone, it was the idea of such enormous acceptance of another culture, so unique and different from theirs, into their culture which killed me. “Food-for-thought” to be continued in the conclusions part of this travelogue.
We had lunch at a Thai restaurant, over more talks and exchange of our life-stories for over two hours. After lunch, thank-you’s, a hug and a handshake later, I wandered off to find the V & A (The Victoria and Albert) Museum and D & A went off to work. I was leaving for Basingstoke that evening, to spend the rest of my time in England with my cousin and his family. This lunch had officially marked the end of my stay with D & A.
The V&A is another one of those famous London museums I would recommend to any visitors to the city. Not only does the museum take you to see Britain and Europe’s glorious past but also delves into the history of Materials to a very detailed extent. I spent most of my time fascinated by some of the most intricate embroidery, metal work, glass work, sculpture and jewellery. The museum also displays textiles and clothes from various parts of the world as also a pavilion for Asia (mostly those nations which Britain colonized in the early 20th century). The fascination for India, I realized does not run in this land as a recent trend, it is more of an ingrained and inherent part of the English, as they refer to India as one of the most favourite colonies of Britain. Another exhilarating film was the making of the great Crystal Palace in the Hyde Park, a well spent and very informative 10 mins in the museum for me.
After venturing into the V & A store for a while, I decided to get back to D & A’s place to pick up my luggage to go to Basingstoke. As I left the museum, the London rain appeared as usual, as it had done all of that week, at High Tea time as I called it. A quick tea later I was sitting in the d-d mapping my route back home on my bus map. In trying to connect to another bus which would take me right across from D & A’s place, I ventured off in the wrong direction again, but realized it soon and was on my way again. By this time, I was getting a good grip on the transport system all by myself, which for me is a great high..(my friend’s who tease me about walking and traveling in the subways’ in NYC, will vouch for this insane high of mine). Got back home, took my luggage and another formal “American” kind of a thank-you note for D & A ( something they could’nt stop teasing me about for long after) later, I set off to Waterloo to catch the train to Basingstoke.
After 2 hrs, I found myself lugging my bags up the stairs to Waterloo Station, with a little help from a sweet English couple. An act of kindness common to NYC and London: strangers helping you up/ down the stairs with your luggage. Nice!
An expensive one-way ticket to Basingstoke (ironically the ticket was called a cheap one-day fare), a train time-table and some phone calls later, I was on the National Rail to B’toke. Could’nt help but notice the plush interiors once again, analogized the experience to being in the Metro North; which connects NYC to CT and other Northern parts of the tri-state area. Reached B’toke, found SD (my cousin who lives there with his family) waiting for me, over a smoke and left to go to his place, my place of stay for the second chapter of my stay in the UK.
Met Ichhita, his wife, Yash his 6 yr old British son, loved his accent and decided to learn it as much as I can and after dinner and plans to explore B’toke ( actually the town has just one mall and a town center which we were going to see the next day) called it a night! Dreamt of London City and the past four days I had spent there, all night. As D had aptly pointed out in a telephone conversation earlier that evening; "London sure is missable!"
I was in love, again! Sigh!!!

London - Day 4

Day 4 (Tuesday 24th Aug 04’):
After the usual morning routine at home, left for the west part of London today, to get the Lord’s Tour. Took a full day bus pass and went to the stadium at the North-West side of Zone 1 to realize I had just missed the last tour of the day. Of course; had to be a stiff Indian-Brit who conveyed that to me at the gates in a rather unfriendly fashion that only strengthened my belief that Brit-Indian’s are more racist, especially towards Indians than Brits. My first regret of the trip, missing the Lord’s tour, easily one of the biggest reasons I would re-visit London in the future.
Decided to walk along the Park Road (comparable to the Oval Maidan area) of Bombay and reached the London Zoo. Spent a while in there and walked all along Prince Albert Road to reach Madame Tussaud’s. Thought if I really wanted to go inside, as I ve been twice in the one at Times’ Square. Decided that the only reason I would want to go is to see Amitabh’s wax statue in there, but it was too late to enter. Regret No. 2, another must-do place on my second visit. (Note: Having lived abroad and been to various places that have branches in other global cities, really makes you question re-visiting them. Quite similar to the experience I had when I stepped into the GAP, Banana Republic, H & M stores on Oxford St. and got out comparing the prices, back home in NYC. I have, however concluded to myself that when it is in a city, where you don’t live, just visit it rather than regret not doing so later.)
Took the bus and got off at Oxford Street. Walked over to Selfridges to check out why it was so big on a London shopper’s list. Bumped into SRK and Gauri Khan with family there and witnessed a classic case of fan-bothering-star-on-his personal visit situation. Was going to go upto SRK to ask for a picture, but decided against it when I saw him deal with an Arabic female fan in a rather unfriendly fashion. Did’nt quite know what to make of it, was it a genuinely frustrated reaction or was it just the air’s-and-graces….left the scene with a rather sympathetic glance towards the star and his family and walked out without as much as being star-struck. The most interesting part of the whole incident was my two-minute conversation with this old, british lady (read as OBL below)
OBL: Who is that, dear?
Me: That’s Shahrukh Khan, a Bollywo…
OBL: Goodness gracious, Is that Shahrukh..the King Khan?
Me: Uh..Yes Ma’m, I am afraid he is ( funny look on face)
OBL: You must be absolutely delighted, is’nt it dear, to see him here? I am sure you love him a lot, being Indian..
Me: Well, unfortunately not. I am not particularly fond of him. In fact I don’t think too highly of him or his work.
OBL: Shhh!! Beware my dear! You must’nt let anyone hear that here, people in this city love him, Brits, Asians the like. He is the “King Khan” after all now, isn’t he?
Me: ( in my head) Brit’s often end their sentences with rhetorics, hence this particular rhetoric need’nt be answered….
Me: (aloud) It was nice talking to you Ma’m, but I must move over to the next floor. Have a good evening!
…and I was out of there, just like that!
One of the most priceless conversations I’ve ever had with a stranger, in a foreign land!
Walked into happier surroundings, shopper’s and tourists strutting along the cobbled pavements and some taking their breaks under the Marble Arch. Walked across it to Hyde Park and spent the rest of the afternoon there. Another high tea later, found myself walking back on Oxford Street (this turned out to be my most visited area in the city), ducking in and out of stores to check out the London fashion scene, concluded that London has a wilder streak to its fashion sense than NYC, for sure. Walked into H & M, my favourite store, and checked out the stuff that I would soon find myself buying in their store in Manhattan. Figured the price tags carry the same figures, except that the currency is different, hence cheaper to buy in NYC than here. Saw the Mc’Donalds and concluded they too looked different and more designed than the ones in the US. Realised I was officially crossing the line between admiring London and falling in love with it, what with each conclusion favouring London over NYC. Was shocked to see my biases shifting, but did’nt bother myself with wondering about it as much then. After some more voyeurism and looking through some tourist-shops to figure what could I carry back home, realized that they could do with some better designed t-shirts for tourists to carry back home; maybe they need a Tantra there. Found some ‘bobbies’ along the street and took their pics, as they reminded me of Mr. Goon from Enid Blyton’s five find-outers. Took the bus (Atrey’s bus map was the best thing ever) and got back to meeting D & A outside their office. Went to Blockbuster with them, picked up some movies and decided to cook at home for the night. When Salim came over, sat down with WKD (blue vodka) and had another series of good talks across the table, partly architectural, partly anything. Cooked up a good desi meal and after dinner watched Lost in Translation amidst a lot of ancillary comments and laughter. Finally at the end of the movie, called it a day and my official last night at D & A’s home.

London - Day 3

Day 3 (Monday 23rd Aug 04’):
Woke up at 9: 30, bid goodbye to D & A who left for work and then after a while, left for my first day of official London sight-seeing, all by myself. Decided to cover East London all day. So set off by bus no. 243 to Waterloo Station. Was a beautiful bus ride especially when the bus goes over the bridge across the Thames. Got off at Waterloo and decided to walk along the embankment, parallel to the Thames.
First stop was the Tate Modern Museum (of particular interest to me, as the only international museum where my undergraduate school had been invited to exhibit some of their work on Bombay). Spent a whole 4 hours of the mildly wet afternoon there, closely touring all the exhibitions and genuinely reading up about most of the work on display there. Strengthened my aspiration to take up Modern Art Criticism course in NYU or Columbia on return to NYC. The tours were reminiscent of classes I took as an undergrad in Architecture, in Bombay. Also was reminded of Kaushik Mukhopadhyay, an excellent artist and a teacher who I knew in school and who has also had the honour of exhibiting his work at the Tate gallery. Visited the Tate Shop and bought myself a Van Gogh planner for 2005 ( my most expensive planner, yet) and of course my favourite one too, as it features some of my favourite artists, best works.
Next Stop was the Shakespeare Globe Museum & Theatre to catch glimpses of Shakespeare’s life and works. Could’nt spend much time there as it was not on my list of priority stops for the day. Instead spent a lot of time standing by the Thames and taking a lot of pictures, penning down some lines and of course crossing the Millenium Bridge to the other side and back.
Moved onto the Southwark Cathedral and spent some time inside. Lit a candle and prayed to the English lord for a bit. Also saw the Southwark bridge and passed the Vinopolis, though skipped the tour of the world’s best wines and free wine-tasting. Thought I could always do that in California, don’t know when thoughJ
Next stop was to be the famous London Bridge (which most of us confuse to be the Tower Bridge, or was it only me?). Stopped by the London Bridge Pier, which houses the Hay’s Galleria, for lunch. Skipped the London Dungeon, London Fire Brigade Museum, Britain at War en route to the HMS Belfast (England’s war ship from WW 2 which makes you experience some of the naval battles of that time). Presumed it to be similar to INS Vikrant that I’ve visited before and decided to skip the experience and move on to the Tower Bridge.
One of the most famous bridges in the world, an excellent example of Victorian engineering built in 1894. An iconic image of the city, which most of us have seen on typical postcards from Britain. Visited the upper part of the bridge which houses the Tower Bridge Experience and details the history and working of the bridge. Came back to the embankment and spent some time photographing the City Hall, another modern heavily-glassed Foster creation, that converges into a narrow point at the top. A told me later that it’s the only other phallic building in London, the first one being the Swiss Re Headquarters; jokingly called as Foster’s ‘thing’ (when you see the image, you will know what I am talking about). Quite an eye sore among all the Victorian structures around, but a reminder that London is about the past and the future. The constant collage of modernist structures with Elizabethan and Victorian ones, makes one constantly wonder and sometimes marvel at the city which seems to not just want to retain its glorious past, but also builds a future that iconises modern and post-modern architecture. Slight divergence there from my tour, but an interesting observation all the same, quite reflective also, as you walk along the Thames and look at the various bridges spanning across it.
The last stop along this bank of the Thames was to be the Design Museum, which A had highly recommended. Reached there just 45 minutes before it was closing for the day and so luckily got the last tour. Saw on display some of the best Jaguar’s on exhibition, including the history of the jumping cat that you see on each Jag. Modern day products and their evolution including the Apple Mac’s and the iPod were on display in their chronological sequences. The museum had definitely kept itself abreast of every-day product designs and evolutions, upto as recent as yesterday. Quite reminiscent of the MOMA Design Store in NYC in a way, as I walked through the four storeys of the building. This last stop marked the end of my Thames Embankment tour as was planned earlier in the day. I left the museum and stopped by for some high tea in the museum café and looked across the river to London on the other side. Foster’s ‘thing’ stared back at me, another eye-sore from across and the Tower Bridge stood between the two banks on the left. The sun shone down on the Thames and I sipped on my cup of English Tea, staring into the water, thinking to myself, it’s a beautiful English day.
After leaving the Design Museum, I decided to cap off the tour with a cruise on the Thames. So got on the 6:45 pm Thames’ cruise and took a 45 minute ride on the deck, over the river. It was a thrilling experience to zip past all the sights I had just toured and from under the bridges. Passed by the London Eye (A British Airways’ sponsored ferris wheel that stands 443 feet tall and offers a vertical tour of the city.)
A fantastic cruise and a full memory card later, I found myself at Westminster Pier. Even though it was’nt part of my agenda for the day, I decided to explore the Parliamentary side of the capital city. Walked through the Westminster Abbey, Big Ben (was lucky to be there when the bell on the tower, one of London’s most famous landmarks, that stands 336 ft tall, announced the day’s closure of events), Parliament Square and Cabinet War Rooms. Went into St. James’ Park and walked along the pond to emerge outside Buckingham Palace. Felt sorry for the Queen to see so many people standing outside the gates trying to peek through to see the activities inside. Was in time to see a change of guard outside the gate (not the same as the grander change-of-guard that one sees at 11:00 am). Walked along to The Royal Mews and passed a guard, that could almost be mistaken for a statue. It was funny to see him stand there, as royal as they can get, with his posture erect and looking straight up, even though he had boisterous kids all around him trying to poke him to move. Was hilarious and I could’nt help but wonder, does the sense of duty or royal loyalty really drive you to be so stiffly upper-lipped? A true British royalty experience; Splendid!
Finally I walked to Victoria Station and took the bus no. 38 from there to get back to Farringdon where D & A work. Met them at the mutually decided meeting point of ours, and went to this Italian place for dinner with their Lebanese co-worker Salim. Concluded all Lebanese men are the same, wherever in the world you go. Had a good time and came back home to watch T.V till late. Saw a new program called NY-LON (short for NYC-LONDON), heard Atrey’s trivia-of-the-day on how the material Nylon got it’s name (By the end of the tour, I had reaffirmed he was one of those kids we grew up with, who knew all the capital cities of the world:) and called it a day on lot’s of laughter and some good blue WKD.

London - Day 2

Day 2 (Sunday 22nd Aug 04’):
Woke up next morning after a refreshing and much needed sleep at 1 p.m. Realized was already late for lunch with Varun. D & A left for work (yes, even on a Sunday) and I got dressed and left to go to the bus stop. Picked up a coffee from a Turkish cafe that was to become my breakfast joint for the week to come. Called V to realize the poor guy was already sitting in the Lebanese restaurant at Marble Arch where we had our lunch date. Planned to meet him at Tottenham Court Rd. Station in 1/2 hr. Then of course got into a bus that went to Tottenham Swan (lesson to be learnt later: all Tottenham's are not the same) and reached close to the tube station at Seven Sister's (Zone 3). Seven Sisters’ is the equivalent of the Bronx, so felt like my friend Saurabh who had goofed up likewise in NYC and instead of Queens had landed up in the Bronx. Safest retreat seemed to be the tube station (when in doubt of the locality, duck into the nearest subway: lesson learnt courtesy living in NYC), so ducked in and decided to get to Tottenham Court Rd. Station by tube. Reached in 45 mins, (consecutive stations are quite far apart on the tube lines as compared to the subway in NYC) to find a harrowed, hungry and a slightly overweight Varun waiting for me outside the tube station. After my apologies and a hug we decided to walk down Oxford St. to get to a place where we could eat lunch. Finally got into a Steak House and sat there catching up over lunch for a good 4 hrs. After lunch, the plan was to get to Leicester Square and check out the bars and pubs there. En route to Leicester Square, I took several detours whenever I saw an interesting landmark. So ended up going to Buckingham Palace lawns, where we sat and chatted for quite a bit and debated over living in the US Vs living in the UK etc. Then walked to Trafalgar Square and of course all the while I kept troubling V to take pics of me in silly touristy places, for eg: outside the Piccaddily Circus Station....(couldnt help but think of ‘Monopoly’ all the while) Then finally reached Leicester Sq. after walking through some flea markets and stood there seeing an Olympic badminton match screening in the middle of the square. Called D & A as we were supposed to hang out at a bar that night and V & I went to a bar in Chinatown to drink.
Varun updated me, like D & A had last night, that in London people love to drink after work. Everyday after work, the bars and pubs get populated with formally dressed office-goers who come there for their daily beer and after about 2-3 hours of social drinking, go home. V said this happens every day and I secretly believe this is the key to his belly's happiness. However; the idea that people should choose to unwind in such an intoxicating fashion every evening after work, did seem really appealing to me. Although, I dont know how I would wind up in such a regular drinking scenario..but on vacation or for a little while, it certainly sounded "rather fun", shall I say?
At the bar, while V & I chatted away, we waited for D & A and eventually realised that they were’nt going to turn up as work had made them very busy. So V & I decided to wind up after 2 hrs at the bar and not-getting-so-drunk, to catch the tube to get home. I got back from Oxford St. by bus and did'nt lose the way this time. (The previous day I had gone ahead to Hackney, another Black neighbourhood as I had dozed off in the bus after leaving Binny & Prina at Oxford St.) Met D & A outside the office (another thing that was routine all week: meeting outside their office every night where they would pick me up. D was paranoid that I would lose my way among those random London streets and warehouses in Farringdon, where their office is, or would get mugged or lost if I tried to come to their office alone from the bus-stop.) and then went back with them to the office and then for Desi Dinner in the area's bangladeshi restaurant). Also called a common friend of our's from architecture under grad, who lives in Wembley (a desi locality somewhere in Zone 3) and caught up with her after ages. Empathised with her as her husband had gotten mugged in some tube station just a few hours earlier and decided to catch up again soon.
Got back home, chatted up for a while, got Atrey's maps (which were a boon for myself; the lone traveller:) and planned the main areas I should cover for the next 3 days and after more exchange of words and much laughter ( the latter being a frequently occuring phenomenon at the D & A residence, especially with D around) called it a night!

London - Day 1

I am travelling for a month starting now, 10 days of which I am in the UK with family, friends and all by myself. Following are the events of the days I spend here, kind of a travelogue. There are tons of images that will be available for view as soon as I am done uploading them.
Day 1(Saturday 21st Aug 04) :
Landed at LHR at 7:05 am. Bid goodbye to Neel ( my flight friend) after exchanging no.s and stood in the long immigration queue at LHR. After entry clearance, collected bag and called Dipal to wake her up. Then freshened up at the airport lounge and realized LHR seriously lacks dust bins. Was astounded when on asking the ticket guy for one, was told that you have to carry your trash with you and that there is no way it can be disposed off. This was also the case in the toilets. After taking all my trash in a plastic bag, I set out to catch the Piccadilly Line to Holborn in Central London where I was to meet my friend Dipal.
Loved my first ride by the London tube. The train travels underground and above ground as well, atleast on this line. Some of my immediate realisations in the tube were its smaller and more intimate scale as compared to the NYC subway. Since I use the NYC subway everyday, the comparison was but natural. Also; like London the tube had a royal feel to it as well. Spotlessly clean and cosy, it felt like any of those conventional Brit houses that I was about to visit on my trip. Completely upholstered in velvet, with bright coloured floral patterns of blue and red, with a matching exterior was a fantastic start to the day. The fare on it however was'nt as pleasing, as I tried converting pounds into dollars.
Reached Holborn and waited for Dipal outside the tube station. Saw my first London red double-decker and was pleased beyond imagination. Felt seriously doped in the head as I was on NY time 2 am, in London where it was 8 am. Met Dipal and had a lousy cup of tea (so not English the tea was) some place and then took the first ride in the d-d bus. Reached her place, cosy little house, met Atrey (didn’t hug him as it makes him uncomfortable) and sat chatting over chai for the next 4 hours. Too little time, too much to catch up on. After a while, left with them to go to their office (the great Zaha's sweat shop as it is called) and hung out there checking emails etc. Called Binny who was in London with her sister for the day and planned to meet her at Oxford Street that afternoon. Called Varun and planned to hook up for lunch the next day i.e. Sunday.Atrey dropped me to the bus stop at Clarkenwell and I took the bus to Oxford St. There, hooked up with Binny and her sis Prina outside Marks and Spencer. Shopped and walked around a bit, ate some stuff and chilled out all along. Was a nice sunny day and the street was crowded. After walking around, came back to Dipal & Atrey's office and then went home with them. Cooked all together, daal, sabji and had a good dinner. Slept off finally and literally died on the bed due to jet lag.

Once every year...

we can call the Empire State "ours"!
Happy Independence Day, India!

http://f1.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/shweyta/
detail?.dir=/13f4&.dnm=ef1c.jpg

Am I in a New York state of mind?

Often, discussions with friends, reveal how I've taken for granted the city I live in. It's not a fact hidden from anyone, that New York City is one of the most important cities in the world. It still has'nt sunk in yet, for me I guess. So today when I left work with all these thoughts in my head, I tried to look at everything around me with a new perspective. I walked on 7th Ave ( also known as Fashion Ave.) with my back facing the hullabaloo of neon's we call Times' Square. When I was in India, I had never imagined that there will be a day when walking within Times Square will become routine and perhaps occassionally frustrating ( due to the tourist's galore). Then, it was one of the most successful urban experiments in a metropolis, a far-out-in-the-distance destination I wanted to be in...today it is such an unavoidable part of life.
As I turned around and continued to walk towards 34th St, I found myself facing the Empire State Building right up ahead. Another important icon, historically and in the present too as it once again reclaims its honour as NYC's tallest building. I looked at it for a good 2 mins, as I always do from the toilet window:) ( A silly detour here, but I use a particular toilet in the Ladies' Rest room at work, the window of which overlooks onto the Hudson. Literally as Gandhiji would say, most of the thinking gets done on the toilet seat. Very true; as my daily introspections take place literally staring straight onto the Hudson and the Empire State right across).
To continue where we left off, on 34th St. was Macy's, the world's biggest store! I walk past it everyday and see crazy shoppers' with huge bags filled with stuff from there...never really understand why from there of all the places..but well..it's an american cultural thing to do..shop at Macy's. So anything goes, just as a souveneir from the New York Macy's. Metaphorically the world's largest consumerist phenomenon, all right there, sprawled out on one whole block and 5 floors...
So there they were, the world's most famous Square, easily one of the most famous buildings and the largest store, all within a 2 minute walk. Icons I pass everyday and hence possibly am beginning to take for granted.
I get into the subway and when we emerge out in Queens, on the other side of the East River, I turn around to see one of my most favourite views from a running train...The entire New York City skyline stretched out like an oil on canvas, with the sun scenically setting behind the Chrysler and the Queensborough Bridge sprawling across the waters to meet Manhattan...and I ask myself...Is this for real?? Do I live here now?
Or is this what they call being in a New York state of mind?

GOOD WATCH: Malena

Safe!

What is it about NYC and this time of the year? Last year on the 14th of Aug we had the now infamous blackout.(Yah I have my own story to relate about the whole thing, something which I wrote about last year and will post on this blog sometime soon.)
Today there was something again?? This time it was in the Ernst & Young building, right next door to us, in Times Square...The building had been evacuated, but there were not too many cops outside it. So maybe it's not serious, we all thought and said out aloud to each other.
Cut to last year, same time when we heard about the power outage. Same reactions, different people. On the outside everyone was positive that it was only a casual incident but within, everyone worried if it was'nt the terrorists at it again.
Both the times, there were those typical cases of paranoia; last year, when someone could'nt get in touch with his boyfriend ( yah, there's no typo there) during the blackout and today when a paranoid, otherwise shy lady, in a step outrageous to her demeanor, picked up her bags and left to go home, way too early in the day, right under the bosses' nose. Soon we were to know that it was a freight elevator accident and that there had been one unfortunate death in the incident.
What can I say? It's New York!! Things happen here and you have to live here knowing that.

Someone said to me the other day; "Why do we need to go through all this insecurity and uncertainty, feeling "unsafe" so often...this city isnt even "ours" to being with!"
That attitude really made me wonder....When do we say a city is "ours"? How long do we need to have lived in it to do so? How attached do we have to be to the city we're living in? How well do we need to know it, to love it?
These are questions similar to those, we ask of ourselves in relationships.
When we live somewhere and love living there, should'nt we accept the city whole heartedly? With all it's qualms and goodies, it's a package deal. With comfort and fame comes constant danger and threat. It's just the attitude we choose to sport, to deal with these things.
Familiarity brings comfort. Sometimes the more we know a city, the more we love it. When there's love, there's loyalty, no matter what...then may the love be a person or a place. And then all our life, we belong there, if not wholly, maybe partially. We start using a "my" before the "city". Whether we continue to live there or not. When the city hurts, we hurt. .. That is when we become "of" it.
Distance does'nt hinder that emotion. We dont have to be in a city, to be in love with it. Our attachment to a city is independent of our living in it. It's circumstantial, in some cases, that we may end up living in it for the maximum time of our lives. Or in some other cases, we may need to live there for a day to know that this is where we belong, this is what we can call "ours"
"Ours" may not be where we were born or raised. "Ours" is where we choose it to be and want it to be! "Ours" is what we call home. And when we are home, we are safe!

GOOD WATCH: Manhattan