Sunday, April 10, 2005

Dallas, TX - Day 2

Day 2 (Sunday, 10th April 05'):
The morning saw us leave home at 11 am, after some brief planning of the day ahead. Me, being the morning-coffee person of the two, Sachin drove me to a Starbucks in Highland Park, supposedly one of the most elite neighbourhoods of the city. Having been through most affluent parts of LA, had already provided me with an insight into grand homes. Driving through Highland Park, added a new dimension to that insight.
Impression 7: Texas’s insane spatial expanse makes it’s people want to expand horizontally, even when building homes. Sachin was right when he said, that you wont find any homes go higher than two storey’s here. On the contrary, I actually saw homes that sprawled lengths of blocks, horizontally, leaving me to wonder if they had moving walkways within to traverse the vast distances.
After having driven through Highland Park and getting lost in there for about two hours, we finally got back on track and drove towards Cosmic Café for lunch. This was Sachin’s recommendation (an excellent one at that); It’s a very hippie kind of a place, will suit your personality just fine” he said to me. I was just about to be flattered when he added, “I said ‘hippie’ not ‘hip’!” Yah, whatever!
Cosmic Café turned out to be one of the best Indian-fusion restaurants I’ve ever been to. To be honest, I was surprised I hadn’t been to a similar one in NYC. NYC’S loss was Dallas’s gain. With more space and low rates, Texas scored. To be able to have a Cosmic Café, that lives upto its name, provides for Yoga and Meditation centres on the upper level, a scattered but detailed ambience created with various mundane Indian objects and a pretty good menu, for comparable and ridiculous low prices, added this restaurant to 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. The last name on the list was the café in North Beach, SF). I kept arguing with Sachin that this café was surely owned by some like-minded Indian and he insisted it belonged to an American. Eitherways; I would have loved to meet the owner and have a conversation about his excellent venture. A must-go place for every visitor to Dallas! The meal was tasty, the portions were just right, the chai was as close to India as it could get, and the mood thus, was upbeat. We left with broad smiles and bulging tummies, to drive off to South Dallas, to explore the downtown.
My excellent navigational skills, (modestly speaking) helped, and we ended up seeing most of downtown, just driving through it. Sachin realized he had never explored the historic West End district before, always having turned back before entering it. So the quaint appearance of the streets there, pleasantly surprised him. A classic case of what I call the ‘Catalyst Tourist’ (one who shows us sides of our city, we’ve never seen before). Coincidentally it turned out, by the end of the trip, that most of the things we did that weekend, were a first for the both of us. I guess that’s what made it so enjoyable.
The next stop was to be in North Dallas, at the Dallas Arboretum, by the Whiterock Lake. Sachin had been there biking before, but the day wasn’t at its sunniest best, so that option was ruled out. It goes without saying that today was the last day for the Dallas Spring Flower Show, at the arboretum. (We concluded this was an excellent weekend to be in Dallas). Previously, I wasn’t very enthusiastic about the flower show, citing the excuse that I could always see the Macy’s flower show in Manhattan. Luckily, Sachin insisted and we spent the next three hours, moving from flower to flower in the arboretum. That; we had to keep reminding ourselves to read the flower names/history etc. instead of just posing for pictures with them, is another story. We must have appeared like two ‘wannabe’ models, who kept taking pictures of each other, against the floral backdrops. My camera batteries died, hoping I’d get the hint and stop this shameless desperation to be photographed. But; to no avail. Sachin’s camera came to the rescue and the desperation carried on. Fellow-visitors were requested often to shoot us together, until finally we both realized that our insanity may have driven them away. The rest of the time was spent walking around and taking pictures of the two 15 ft tall manicured peacock-shaped hedges, with tails that were landscaped with various flowers in colourful patterns.
The arboretum had a beautiful view of the lake as well, so we decided to drive by it. But its huge size, scenic surroundings and the sight of people fishing and biking past, made us want to park and enjoy the view for a bit. After a few more pictures by the lakeside, we drove off towards Sachin’s workplace, the Texas Instruments Headquarters, on my insistence. Sachin had described his ‘huge’ gym at work to me, which was enough reason to check out the facility.
Having seen how huge spaces can get here, I should have known what to expect at TI as well. But, seeing the cubicles line up one after the other endlessly, gave me the vague feeling of being somewhere between a warehouse and a sweat-shop. Obviously, it wasn’t either; the space was too well planned to be a warehouse and the people were paid too well for it to be called a sweat-shop. Even the ladies room was impressive-with jacuzzi’s, sauna’s, hot-tubs and one hair-dryer per sink. The facility was humungous and to get to the gym alone, we had to drive a few blocks. And of course, the gym was equipped with everything from a snack machine to open fields for ball games. I left the TI facility awe-struck.
Impression 8: While driving back towards Sachin’s place, we passed apartment complexes, that seemed to mock me with ‘One-bedroom apartments for $200”. Texas’s inexpensiveness was getting tough to digest, somehow.
The plan for the rest of the evening was to go back to the Indian hub of Dallas, for ‘chaat’ and ‘vadaa-paav’ and hit the funnily named ‘Amar..Akbar…Anthony’ theatres for the 6:30 show of the movie ‘Bewafaa’. (Sachin, being one of the few ‘filmy’ guys I know, this was a pre-planned event, as it appealed to both our ‘Bollywood-loving’ souls). Neel, Sachin’s ex-classmate from OSU/ present co-worker was to join us for the movie.
We reached the Taj Imports store, and Sachin warned me that I would now see hordes of ‘Aunties and Uncles’ inside the store. I had been to Indian stores before, in various parts of the country, but had obviously never seen one as spacious as this one. NRI’s differ just as the cities they live in, a point I have made in a previous travelogue. Dallas NRI’s, like most NJ one’s, as I was told, were among the first set of Indians that migrated and settled in the US. Most of them belonged to the Gujarati community, (‘gujjus’ as we colloquially call them) and established motel businesses or shops here.
(In keeping with the NRI topic, I must mention a hilarious piece of trivia, Sachin and Neel told me about-Apparently the funniest part of watching a Hindi movie in Dallas is when the movie features Paresh Rawal in it. He being the gujju community’s only claim to fame in Bollywood, that creates an uproar in the audience and people clap in his scenes. I am quite sure that, must provide for an entertaining show, by itself.)
After splurging over spicy ‘vadaa-paav’s’, Sachin and I drove to the tri-theatre complex to meet Neel, who had called promptly to inform us, that the movie had already started at 6 pm. We still decided to go ahead with our plans and saw ‘Lucky’ instead of ‘Bewafaa’ as recommended by the ticket-window guy. (A huge waste of money, in return for hardly any entertainment). We got out of the show discussing how ‘Bewafaa’ would have been a better choice (atleast it had some credible/hot actors and a storyline, which although common would involve some drama in it)
After a fun-time mocking and criticizing the film, we drove back home. Since I had an early morning flight out to LGA the next morning, we decided to call it an early night after a short walk around the artificial pond. The walk turned out to be short, but generated a discussion that went on for almost four hours into the night, accompanied with Sachin, midnight-snacking on ‘Maggi’ again.
Impression 9: Dallas, in true Texan style, provided the much-needed anti-thesis -‘ more space’ and ‘less pace’ from my regular NY lifestyle. Sachin’s interesting company, gracious hosting, our refreshing conversations, smiling strangers, peek-a-booing kids, and whirlwind touring of the twin cities of Dallas and FortWorth, just reinstated what my ‘skillet-potato’ chef at the fest flaunted on his huge torso-“Everything is big in Texas”…..most of all, hearts!

Saturday, April 09, 2005

FortWorth/Dallas, TX - Day 1

Day 1 (Saturday, 9th April 05'):
Dallas was an unexpected trip. It all started with Raj having a free-ticket on American Airlines, to any of their destinations in the US and Europe. Now had this been known before, that I would end up using the ticket, it would have been put to its best use, by flying somewhere in Europe. But let's just say that Raj got busy with interviews and I got lucky with the ticket. After trying all my preferred destinations on all my preferred dates, I ended up with Dallas, TX. Figured I have to travel to Texas at some point of time, may as well do it for free. (They say there’s not much to see or do there. I know that will hurt a lot of sentiments, but thats how I felt:)
My host for the weekend was to be Sachin. Sachin is my second-degree friend; he was roommates with my best friend and thus I got to know him. Before this trip, I have met Sachin just twice, once in San Diego from where we vacationed in Las Vegas together and once in Mumbai, when we spent a day together. Both the times, my best friend was with us and the three of us hit it off very well. Let's just say, that I had assumed that all the good friendships in life had already been formed. Any new friends now, are usually friends of existing friends. Sachin is one of them.
My weekend-er started off with splendid aerial views of Manhattan, one of the other reasons why I choose to fly out of LGA versus JFK. To be able to see the city you love, from up above, and discern its various smaller elements, just like in a map, is a high like none other. The perfect adieu to the perfect city.
I landed at 10:00 am in DFW Airport. Sachin was running a bit late, to pick me up so I strolled along at the airport, only to find a lot of people staring at me. Wondering if something's wrong with me, I hurried to the women's room. It must have been at that time that I noticed I was probably the only girl wearing a skirt at the airport.
Impression 1: Texan women dress like their male counterparts. (I guess you don't look "girly" in Texas).
I was supposed to find out about parking facilities at the train station at the airport, for Sachin, from the Information desk. The guy there was Indian, and sadly could’nt understand me very well. Must’ve been the generation gap or the possible lack of southern slang in my tongue. I left with a “thanks” and a train schedule in my hand. Found Sachin in a while and we set off with coffee and bagel in hand, towards his car. Of course, I had to exclaim my pre-planned “Oooh…So this is Texas!” one-liner once I was out.
We drove off towards the DFW train station, to catch the train to Fort Worth, for the Main Street Arts Festival. As does usually happen with my trips, today was the last day for the fest, so I had made it there just in time. We parked Sachin’s car at the station parking lot and tried to figure out how to buy our tickets from the vending machine. ("I am the public transportation queen, so I should know" was my argument). After some button-pressing we finally got our tickets and waited along with a lot of families, all dressed in ‘we-are-going-on-a-summer-holiday’ fashion, for our train. Luckily we had’nt missed the 10:23 as it was late and boarded it to get to our destination.
Impression 2: Either kids in Texas are friendlier than kids in NYC or I am funnier to country kids than city ones.
The rather slow train journey was spent playing peek-a-boo with the cute little Texan in the front seat and chatting with Sachin.
On reaching FortWorth, Sachin and I got out our cameras for some touristy photo-shoots. We followed the crowd and reached towards the Main Street where the fest was sprawled all over 5 blocks. I was excited to be at my first real street festival in this country, (NYC street fests dont really count as street fests, for various reasons) having thought of it as being like the ones on Food TV. Only as Sachin clarified to me several times, this was not a food but an art fest. We moved from one stage to another, hearing various bands playing their music and admiring the art-works on display. As always, none of the art was affordable. That sparked off a discussion on Art as an active or passive profession and Sachin mentioned how he wanted to pick up photography as an alternative profession than his current one-that of a Design Engineer.
Moving through the art-stalls we reached the family section where a Canadian tight-rope walker played an entertainer to perfection. Kids loved him and adults cheered along. The next stop was at a one-man stall where every correct answer yielded a buck as a reward. Needless to say, we knew most of the answers but did’nt manage a single buck and soon realized that waiting any more, would entail a lecture on Christianity, so we fled.
Like most street festivals, the food was expensive. We bought ourselves two coupon strips (10 coupons each) worth $10 and realized that most meals would cost the entire strip. I opted for a ‘Skillet Potatoes’ having been tempted for the taste of Texas, seeing two burly men cooking them in a huge skillet. Aptly, the men wore T-shirts which read “Everything is big in Texas”. Good Value for a good meal. Sachin on the other hand, opted for a sausage-in-a-bun (which left him hungry) and a glass of lemonade (which left him with a bad taste in his mouth). Talk of poor judgement!
A candy floss, Starbucks’ iced coffee and scented tea shots, later we found ourselves done with the place and ready to leave. The holiday mood had been captured in both our cameras and without much success I had managed to photograph some beautiful kids with their painted faces.
Impression 3: People prefer baby wagons for their kids in this side of the country. Must have something to do with the fact that life here is not so fast and space is endless.
The next stop was to be at a Rodeo-show. A must-do on this trip, as it was an exclusive Texas thing. The historic Wild West show from the 1800’s was to be playing in the nearby Stockyards Coliseum. Unfortunately, on calling them for directions, we were told that the show had been cancelled and there, emerged my excuse to come back to Texas. We got back on the train to DFW Airport train -station where Sachin had parked the car and drove off into my first freeway ride into the land of highways.
Impression 4: Texas highways are painted, unlike highways in any other cities in the US that I have seen so far. Each structural column has one star on it, to symbolize perhaps the “One star” state that TX is. It is called such, as the state flag has only one star on it.
Impression 5: I thought California was freeway-land, but now I am convinced that TX takes the cake when it comes to freeways and their wild criss-crossing on the horizons.
En route to Sachin’s place, we decided to stop over at the Hindu Temple in Dallas. I instantly compared it to the temple I visit regularly in Flushing, Queens and found it to be more spacious, painted and elaborate in some ways. The only thing missing was the delightful canteen that I feast in every weekend, in the temple back home. We left, after darshan to go over to Sachin’s place – a spacious (I need not say this word anymore, as TX is about space…too much of it, in fact) one-bedroom apartment, with a sprawling pond in front of it, circumvented by a jogging track and lush green landscape). A pool and Jacuzzi of course were tucked away in the corner, somewhere, as goes the norm with most apartment complexes BUT those in NYC.
Impression 6: Texas defines Space; the extravagance of it, the profundity of it and the profanity of it. As an Architect, that was my biggest turn-on. The inexpensiveness of the state, lack of state tax and dirt cheap rents ($600 for Sachin’s home, that is equal to a mansion for a single middle-class New Yorker) actually made me stop and re-evaluate my life, if only for a moment.
Once I snapped out of my space-dream, I noticed Sachin’s tastefully done apartment. I must admit, it was one of the best and cleanest bachelor apartments, that I had seen, the other one being my friend Kunal’s in SF. Sachin played the host to perfection-treating me to some hot tea (desi-style) with masala, ginger and all that jazz. He then, got out his guitar and crooned to some cool numbers, singing along as he strummed. The morning fest in the Texas sun and lack of sleep took its toll on me and I slept for an hour.
In the evening, we drove to the Indian hub of Dallas, to dine in an Indian Chinese restaurant (at my request). En route we picked up Abbas, Sachin’s friend/ co worker. Sadly the food was’nt all that good (as my tummy would find out the next morning) and turned out that the restaurant believed in quantity (too much of it) over quality. With our stomachs' full and hearts' empty, we left the restaurant.
Post dinner conversation flowed after we got back to Sachin’s place, over some old Smirnoff, until Sachin amazed me with the “I am still hungry, Do you want some Maggi?” one-liner. He had already made me feel guilty earlier, at seeing my appetite equal his over dinner, now it was my turn to gape. Eventually, we called it a night on some good 80’s music and old vodka with O.J.
Tomorrow was going to be Dallas-darshan.

Thursday, April 07, 2005

Of Lines...

...Numerous lines...
One after the other, each line gives definition to the previous one. Each forms its own identity, physical or meta-physical, when it appears. White pages transform into sermons, Black screens vamp into multitudinous streaks of colour. From its inception to its end, in solitude or in company, each line is a bearer of meaning; purposeful, descriptive, definitive, informative, creative and participatory, in the entire assemblage.
Often, a line does more, than connect two points. Some lines work in succession, others work in their discontinuity.
A collection of them, can convey meanings of serious proportions. One line can make, or break, cross, or connect. An appropriate line can create history, an erroneous one, blasphemy. Broken or continuous, rhythmic or random, old or new, they all work in synchronism…at the end of which, we see the bigger picture...
...A well-written piece of prose or a well-drawn piece of architecture!

P.S: I draw for a living and write for existing. Lines, thus are my constant companions and best modes of expression. The above piece is a tribute to them.