A Polish Picnic

Poland was a ‘black hole’ country…. till the time I stepped foot on this quaint land ….A small toyish aircraft took me to the city of Wroclaw..there were just 10 of us on that  journey. Quite unlike the jostling overcrowded glorified ‘corporation bus’ which I boarded from good old India…

As  I landed at the airport I was stunned at the size of the airport…it was like a ‘honey I shrunk the airport’ version….it was almost like a small walk-in store where you pick up luggage and walk out…!

As I checked into my hotel, I was amazed at it’s colonial environment….all the Charles Dickenson and Count of Monte Cristos of my childhood gushed into my mind as I tread over the wooden floors and marveled at the gigantic pillars and frescos…

The city to summarize is a charming tribute to the vintage era…the buildings have been retained at its most aesthetic best……..no artificial glass windows..no bumpy concrete structures to sour your eyes….its just magnificent architecture that takes you to the bygone Victorian era! The cobbled streets and little dwarf statues at each street corner spreads a cozy environment that is enchanting.

I was blessed to be in the city in the Christmas season and the festivities just brushed me into its folds…A Christmas carnival was glittering through the central square..small Polish stalls, Polish delicacies, miniature sleighs and a giant Christmas tree right at the heart of the square…!I At the end of it I was too was humming carols as I admired the little celebration that broke out every evening in the center of the city!

My last day was spent wandering through the bridges, rivers and the cathedrals of the city and the peace and serenity by the river was cherishing..the evening  was finally cut short by the large droplets of water that spluttered and added to the shivering bundle that I had become…I finally bid farewell to the beloved square and carried with me the little Polish ceramic tray that I bought and alongwith it the peaceful elegance that Wroclaw is all about!

The Indian Traveller

Over the past few trips outside motherland, I have idled away my time staring at my co-Indian passengers and all the time spent on such surveys seems to take on some strange ‘conclusions’ or perceptions as I would rather term them..

Why is it that the Indian flight lounge is always most crowded at every airport? And why does it seem like the space never seems to be enough??? Is it a mental illusion or is the density of population and luggages per square feet   really at its saturated height? A few hours of stopovers and there would be food packets, screaming babies and bags and baggages strewn around the lounges…

And then once the space problems are resolved and people take their designated lots, the ‘where are you going’ and ‘what are you doing’ conversations spark off almost instantaneously amongst the passengers..it is so easily forthcoming ..must be the DNA! Would you catch two strange British ‘stiff upper lips’ lock themselves in such conversations? A few minutes into the conversation and they would find a common ‘cousin’, neighbour or atleast at a minimum…the same ’native’ they probably originated from…The next step in this bonding exercise is the sharing of their ‘delicacies’ packed in neat packets and dabbas (depending on from where to where the flight is movingJ….)

And most often the leg of the journey decides the ‘bucketed’ travel lots that you would see…if it’s a flight from India to the popular NRI destinations of US and Europe..it would essentially have a few ‘suited seasoned’ travelers who would have no involvement in the charade described above..they would have a ‘Wall Street Journal’ pocketed somewhere around their being, a ‘how to win’ leather bound book clasped tightly…a boring grey/brown suitcase..as officious as one can look in the circumstances…But the majority are ‘aged parents’ on their journeys to meet their kids..most of them look troubled after being forced on with piles of ‘winter clothing’, our traditional ‘ammas’ pushed to wear some unmatching knee length coats, a few pleats of their beautiful printed sarees peeking out from the ‘Western’ outfit. And their eyes dart around anxious if the flight would be on time, the security procedures completed etc etc….and once they settle into the flight..they are eager to get to their kids and grand kids..And the last but not the least would be the newly wed ladies journeying across the seas to unite with their wedded better halves…they would be in their pristine best…the bright red sindoor shining from their straightened glistening mane..their limbs glittering with jewels (no doubt left over from the gala wedding)..already carrying the best branded bags and suitcases and in their best attire…that’s a crowd that cannot be matched up to…don’t even try…

And a reverse leg from the US and Europes of the world back to India would have the veteran NRIs forcefully bringing themselves back to India for ‘showing’ their ‘elementary, middle level’ kids what India is all about…the kids trapped in their Indian skins but mouthing ‘twanged and slanged’ accented English..then there are those returning after their ‘short service’ abroad…attempting to show off their newly acquired accent, gadgets and ‘foreign’ habits to the not so fortunate ‘first time outside India’ folks..

 But whatever real/fictional buckets you belong to, once you step out of the airport and its ‘foreign scented’ environment…hug a few of your loved ones…haggle a bit with the porter/cabbie… smell the aroma of the somosawallah on the strees….all the Indianness that you forgot or lost would possess you and unknowingly you slip into your mothertongue and merge with the crowd ..almost like you never left!

I amSTERDAM

Its a strange feeling when you write a travelogue of a place you have been as a teenager and then as an adult (that too the dreaded middle aged adulthood)….My last visit was as a short haired giggly school girl, in the company of my best friends..and now time machine got me to my latest visit as a seasoned ‘corporate’ adult..wrapped in the winter of adult ‘straight’ jackets…..!!

That apart the visit was as packed and short as the word short itself….we landed as a pack of vagabond ‘official’ team members…one hand supporting a laptop bag and the burdens that come with a pay packet and the other holding a camera to click a few glimpses of the famed beauty of Netherlands..We were transported to the little picturesque town called Noordwijk (a strange set of letters but pronounced very differently, don’t even attempt if you are the typical ‘Indian Englisher’)…The town is flanked by green and brown fields on both sides..waterways running through its heart ..and beautiful mansions dotting the already peaceful view…Its small roads don’t suffer the abuse of traffic blocks…its habitants I am sure has never heard the term ‘noise pollution’ in their entire existence…What stays in my memory is my little escapade in the wee morning hours ...the autumn colours changed from a deep twilight purple to a majestic yellow as the sun tossed its rays… it was worth the crazy alarm moment that shrilled through my ears…

After the three day grueling schedule, I got my one evening in Amsterdam. Canals and river ways meander through the length and breadth of this city..its a Victorian version of dear old Alapuzha (killing comparison I agree)…house boats…vintage mansions by the riverside…it’s a calming sight …a few dashed visits through the famed and notorious streets of Amsterdam and the night came to a close..time to head back to the routine and babble called India..

A turn back and the night sky glittered through the rivulets of water flowing under the bridges of Amsterdam..a moment that seeped in and probably would stick with me till my next visit as a shriveled old woman??:)

An Apple every day………….

A time to bow.. to the man who made an apple every day (vs an apple each day) a reality…I think back of the my childhood days when I had a small Apple computer (the prehistoric version of today’s lightning speed gadgets)..it used to be a utility item, fading into the furniture of our home – just a gadget to get through your requirements.

I take a quick train back to ‘now’ and I can’t help but be awed by the mark that an Apple has made in our world. Almost like a Midas touch - the simple ‘walkman’ was transformed into the iconic ‘ipod’, graham bell’s telephone was renovated into the uber cool ‘iphone’ and finally the all new entertainment avatar called ‘ipad’!! It just gets better, sleeker and more and more to die for.

I spent most of my years admiring the slew of gadgets from the gallery , recently my husband got ourselves into the surreal world of Apple..and its an experience worth every hard earned cent spent. It takes the virtual experience to a new level and it becomes an addiction that is difficult to break free from.

For now all I can say is it’s surely and definitely a JOB well done!

Bangalore Blues

Each place has a soul, a fragrance, a certain something that draws and strikes a chord with its people..Its the human sense of a place which transcends the brick, mortar and tar..It is that certain ‘connect’ that each person has with that city.

Its been 6 years in the city and I have searched for that one defining Bangalore factor and I guess I can’t help but pin it to its beautiful breezy weather..the rain gods bless Bangalore each time the Mercury crosses the thresholds of the Bangalorean (a very low threshold at that).

But that apart, it’s a city where word traffic rules hands down! The autocratic rule has made its presence felt so much that it is now the closest synonym of Bangalore. The roads are getting narrower, the vehicles are proliferating and the pits are getting deeper and larger. Each day is a struggle between man, vehicle and the cow on the road for its own space and most days I must confess that the cow finally wins that crucial battle. The flyovers and magic boxes don’t help in any way, the traffic just moves from junction to junction but never disappears…Its almost as if the city is trying to botox itself into a beauty queen, the facelifts and cosmetic surgery just delays or hides the decay for a while but the cracks and wrinkles are here to stay. The natural freshness of the city is tarnished each day with the monstrous concrete structures that mushroom by the minute.  The destruction of its lung spaces are so rapid that Google Maps is finding it difficult to keep abreast. The lakes have been devoured in the mad rush called ‘real estate boom’. I almost feel envious when I hear old timers speak of the Bangalore that was…what remains of its green glorious past is the Lal Bagh and Cubbon Park – the only place where you can hear the birds chirp instead of the loud horn of the ‘road-raged’ driver..and where you can seep in the serine greenery…

The city needs to find its soul soon.. away from the honking and screeching future that it is building for itself. Till then like any person in this city, I wait eagerly for the magical metro that will change this city forever!

No Child’s play

The new breed of Gen ZZZ atleast those singing and dancing their way through the ‘reality shows’ of our times seem to have lost that minty fresh halo called ‘childhood’. They seem more like genetically modified versions of children – glossed up with adolescence, dressed up in adulthood and balancing on the pointed heels of a hybrid of both. They talk big, walk mature and can’t be ‘shut up’! They prefer bollywood to walt Disney and I was even more stunned to hear a four year old laugh out loud at a so-called ‘adult gay’ joke at the movies. That’s the transition that I see right before my eyes.

Of course I can’t take away the talent and super smartness that they bring to the stage. Nor can I hide my amazement at the tech-savvy bundles that we create today. Probably I belong to the Enid Blyton era where enchanted forests and pixies ruled my childhood. But one change that I can see from yesteryears has to be the advent of Indian mythological characters into our play areas. It is quite a treat to hear the little ones cheer for Chota Bheem and throw a tantrum for a Hanuman Gatha – quite a rarity in the Snow White, Lion King filled play rooms of our times.

Its after all Generation Z..they would probably cross all boundaries and hurdles that we have set for ourselves. Is this a yawning ‘generation gapped grandmother’ perspective? The innocence of a 4 year old is his USP and if you don’t have it at 4 you definitely can’t have it back at 40 after you have been through the big bad world! This is their moment to scream out loud, play all day and cherish those carefree moments for the rest of their adult life – it’s a choice worth thinking about?

The Gods must be crazy rich

The unearthing of treasures at Padmanabha temple was more a page out of a fairytale than a news item to my eyes...sparkling jewels, historic ornaments and chests filled with gold coins..and the daily scorecard kept ticking-  finally ending with a big bang announcement that this is the numero uno wealthiest temple on our planet! I was equally dazzled by the piles of cash at Tirupathi temple a few years back and my eyes literally popped out seeing the heavy glitzy gold ornaments of the lord divine. If Richie Rich had a divine 'avtar' it had to be gods at the wealthy temples of India..the money at the lords' disposal is mind boggling and can wipe out the hunger and povery of our nation with a single stroke of the 'sacred' wand! What also amazes me is the amount of cash/kind 'donated' to the multibillion temples around us - a golden chariot here, a silver dome there, the list is endless. The same charitable donor would not part with his penny to the person begging for alms right outside the temple...he may never feed a single hungry mouth in his lifetime..never help a helpless patient get his right to live in a hospital.... but he would and he will surely contribute a fair share of his success with the Almighty! A true divine paradox!