Noblest of all

Leaving bed early required a lot of persuasion, internal and external. We completed the morning duties and had light breakfast. The day was long and had to be spent driving thru tortuous roads. The petrol pump 7 kms back in Tandi was the only one in the area, the next petrol pump was in Leh 350 kms from Tandi. We decided to completely fill the tanks of 3 bikes with the petrol in jerry cans and drive back to Tandi on rest 2 bikes with all the empty jerry cans. After filling petrol in all the cans and bikes Abhishek, Shatru, Sid and me turned back to our base in Keylong.

Previous day long journey provided tips on how to be better ready for the journey ahead. We were caught in rain and snowstorm just a few hours after leaving Manali the day before. Roads were narrow and contained pot holes all over. Valleys got deeper as we moved from one curve to the other and it became dreadful to drive on the valley side of the road. Flowing ice water had created seizures on the roads and it was difficult to drive on exposed gravel without grounding the foot. As soon as we grounded it, the foot became soggy with Ice Cold water and numbness of the foot ensued.

That lazy morning we were much better prepared for the day’s journey. All of us wore clothes that screened the warm inner clothing from water and chilly air. We wore multiple socks to reduce water reaching the foot just in case we landed out foot in water and we put multiple locks while tying the rope around the luggage and cans to prevent any loosening on the way.

Abhishek was driving a few hundred metres behind me while coming back from Tandi. He had not reached our hotel even 10-15 mins after I reached. Waiting for him, I packed the remaining stuff gearing up to have another adventurous day.

For most of us adventure on the 1^st day was enough for a couple of years. Being caught in a snowfall unguarded on one of the highest mountain pass had the excitement rolling down the valleys.

Too anxious to wait any longer, Sid and I went back towards Tandi and found Abhishek just a km away from Keylong. He had lost his wallet, possibly dropped on the way from Tandi. He and Shatru had driven back to Tandi with little hope of finding it and were coming back unsuccessful. Since 2 pair of eyes has already scanned the area, we thought it was futile to spend any further time finding it. Eight thousand rupees in cash, PAN card, credit and debit cards and a dear photograph was gone. The only case in which we would have found it was if no one else had found it by then. We managed to get the cards blocked, thankful that we were still a few kms before the NO SIGNAL ZONE of hundreds of kms started. Accompanied with a few sighs and miserable feeling we continued on our journey to the most spiritually peaceful destination I know of.

About a month later Abhishek received a call from Manali. The person on the other side of the phone asked if Abhishek had taken any recent trip to Leh and lost his wallet on the way. He asked a few questions around the content and the color of wallet and finally believed that the wallet belonged to the person he was speaking to. He asked Abhishek how he would like the contents of the wallet sent back to him. Abhishek was gagged by the question, before he could believe his ears and think coherently the person said that he would make a DD for the amount in the wallet less the cost of courier and send it to him. Abhishek with great difficulty opened his mouth to say eh...Thank you very much...eh...Thank you. About a week later Abhishek received the courier with DD and his PAN Card inside.

Mr X runs a small transport company operating between Manali and Ladakh and one of his truck drivers gave him a wallet found near Tandi petrol pump. With no address references in the wallet, Mr X contacted the IT department citing the incident and asked them for the contact information of the person whose PAN Card was found in the wallet. Though incredible, someone from IT Department sent the contact information of Abhishek’s permanent home address and Mr X got Abhishek’s number from his parents.

Abhishek and I spoke at length about the incident waiting for dinner on that evening; predicting where we would have given up on locating the owner of the wallet had we found it. The incident has changed Abhishek and me for good, now we know that we are highly inspired to take that extra step beyond the point our faith collapses and hope gives way. Like Betaal of Vikram and Betaal I am interested in understanding whose act amongst the three was most noble. Abhishek and I mutually agree on the truck driver, but deep inside I know that we would not have become a better person without Mr X’s extraordinary effort.

After the Break

I welcome myself back to my own blog after 4 long years. Most of this time has been spent outside India....and some frequent traveling from one place to the other. I have been writing all along but I was unable to post it and I would attribute that mostly to my deliberate attempt to being cut off from this blog.

Just a few weeks back one of my colleagues was pretty intrigued with one of the movie reviews I wrote and asked if I write some more stuff. A few more have always been asking me to revive this and here I am. I have been reading like crazy in 2010 and there is a lot that I have penned down here and there. I intend to transfer all the stuff onto xpresshuns coz there is no better place to archive my writings. I have vowed to be more consistent than I been before but only time would tell if I stick to that plan.

Back to sharing my xpresshuns !!

Beautiful Athens

 

Buckingham Palace to Southall

Late in the afternoon with no signs of the sun, we were in front of the Buckingham palace. It is grand and imposing. The building, the grand gate, the huge park and the guards in their red uniform, all, exude the royalty and power of arguably the 2nd most authoritative centre in the world. This was the centre from where India was ruled for 200 years. I got somber, slightly embarrassed for the fact that my forefathers and the motherland was ruled by the same centre.

We left for Southall from the Buckingham palace.
We enquired about Southall from the ENQUIRY at Embankment station. Southall was no where mentioned on the confusing UNDERGROUND network displayed at all the stations in and around London. There are numerous TUBE, underground railway network service, routes that forms the arteries and veins of the transportation network in London. The female at the enquiry counter suggested us to the take the CIRCLE route, alight at Paddington and take the National Railways to Southall.

It took us about 20 mins to reach Paddington. Paddington station is huge and very impressive; it reminded me of the 2 biggest terminal stations of India, CST in Mumbai and Howrah.The train to Southall was to leave from Platform no 12 in 10 mins. There are display boards at the stations which makes traveling easy for people who are new to London. The TUBE managing authority has done a commendable job of making available all the information at the stations. We boarded the train on reaching the platform. A few hours back I had seen a lot of Indians in the main tourist locations in London but most of them appeared from the southern part, opposed to that the few oriental co passengers in the train were from the northern India, punjabi to be specific. The train took us away from the quintessential pandemonium of a metropolitan city. In some time we were at the Southall Station. I was surprised to see the name of the station written in Punjabi, needless to mention that English was the first language. We got down and a beautiful Punjabi kudi perched from the following bogie. We were enjoying the feeling of being there, felt close to home. We came out and took a subway to get to the other side of the road where we could see some shops. We wanted to buy Indian curries and spices and have a good Indian dinner for which we had come to Southall. The shops visible on that side of the road promised all that. The subway carried the pungent smell of urine which is so common in any less frequently traveled lanes and corners in India. I couldn’t help smiling. I had never thought of sighting this in the western world. I was assured that this place would offer all that we were looking for. It started raining lightly and we hurried towards a shade of a restaurant, a hyderabadi restaurant. DUM BIRYANI SERVED HERE was written in bold letters. We were joined by a Punjabi family and another man who was divulging how he came to Southall. It was time for some Sutta break, my colleagues lighted a cigarette each and started smoking. I was content smoking passively. The rain stopped and we walked further on the road. The homely feeling grew stronger as we saw posters of the latest movies ‘FANAA’, ’36 CHINA TOWN’ etc on the walls. We moved further and realized that we were in an archetypal Indian shopping street. We kept walking till a MITHAI shop lured us inside. Our mouth watered looking at the Indian delicacies. We decided to have Samosa and Tea to begin; neither the samosa nor the tea was so great. Disappointed with the snack, soon, we got into an Indian super store and bought spices, curries and loads of other stuff as well. We had grown heavy when we came out. Mobility was certainly gonna be affected. We bought DVD’s of a few latest Hindi movies and some more of the kinds that remind you of your soul mate….from an adjacent store. All of us were hungry and were trying to spot a good restaurant. We decided to go back to the one that we had seen on the way. The ambience and menu seemed potential. We ordered Chicken biryani for all. We were confused to decide on one thing. I wanted to have so many things at the same time, would have been good if humans had the capability of storing the food for days somewhere in their body to be consumed later. Some of the living species can do it. I believe this happens to people who are devoid of the food they have thrived on for 25 years or so. We savored the Chicken biryani with Boondi Raita, the preparation was palatable and we ate it all. Happily we left that place and came back to the station, avoiding the subway this time, though it reminded me of home but it wasn’t certainly pleasant. A beautiful stranger accompanied us on our way back and my colleagues went gaga about it. She was in an extraordinarily revealing outfit and unfortunately I was sitting on the wrong side. Nonetheless the day was good, I felt close to home after a long time, near yet so far.I could feel my homeland strongly at Southall. The embarrassment that I had felt in front of Buckingham Palace alleviated. I was filled with admiration for all the Indian people in Southall who made their presence felt in a big way thousands of miles away from their roots.

Female Power

"The world's biggest power is the youth and beauty of a woman."

Indian Strategist Chanakya (350 BC - 275 BC)

As I switched on my TV on a lazy morning today, CNN had an interesting news to offer, not about the US Copter that crashed in Afgahnistan, but something about the BRA's.

Campaigners and activist from around the world had got together at a harbour on the island of Cyprus to raise awareness of Breast cancer. Additionally they set up a new world record of strapping the maximun number of BRA's together. The number is more than the number of woman I would have seen till date, 114,000.

Cyprus registers 300 new cases of Breast Cancer every year and most of them die because of unawareness. The local cancer patients thought it is high time they make people aware of it and make NEWS at the same time.

The number of BRA's they tied together came to be 118 Kms long. Phew. I am sure the collection did not miss any size, shape, brand and color sold anywhere in the world. The Video shoot showed people of all age and class donating in all possible ways to the cause. I saw some military personnels starpping the BRA's together, I mean they were doing all they could, they could not possibly have donated BRA's.

BRA's were collected from various parts of the world and brought to Cyprus.

The previous record of strapping the maximum number of BRA's was held by Singapore who could manage to collect only 79,000 BRA's. Well I believe a large portion of women on that side of the planet would not necessarily need it and may be that's the reason Singapore could not hold the record for long.

The modus operandi doesn't make any difference if you realize the goal. The casue was pious and I am positive that it has made people aware not only in Cyprus but other parts of the world as well. As one of the activist said, "There is no one in Cyprus now who is not aware of Breast Cancer"

Chanakya might want to rephrase his saying after hearing all this.

This campaign has also showed the POWER of things women use.

I am contributing to this cause by posting a blog !!

Inspiration

When you are inspired by some great purpose, some extraordinary project, all of your thoughts break their bonds: your mind transcends limitations, your consciousness expands in every direction and you find yourself in a new, great and wonderful world. Dormat forces, faculties and talents become alive and you discover yourself to be a greater person than you ever dreamed yourself to be.

-Indian Philosopher Patanjali

Usual Evening

I took the key out of my pocket and inserted it in the key hole, rotated it anticlockwise twice before finally turning it slightly on the same side. The door opened making a clicking sound. I pushed the door ajar and got in. It was dark inside, sun had set sometime back and there was just enough light coming thru the large glass door opening to the swimming pool to facilitate viewing of the outline of things kept in the room. Everything in the room was black. My hands reached the switch board on the wall close to the door and 2 bulbs came alive. The living room was flooded with light and the things resumed their original color. Everything was as I had left it in the morning, 12 hours back. Some magazines and CD’s were lying on the sofa, a sleeveless sports wear, guide to Greece and a Greece map on top of it, pen that did not work and some used calling cards were lying on one of the single sofa. The locked Laptop was lying on one of the smaller tables sized to perfection, a Nikon camera connected to it thru the USB port.

I took my jacket off and tossed it on the closest sofa, took my shoes and socks off and placed them in the shoe rack. I picked up my jacket and started walking towards my bed room, on the way switching more lights in the alley to force some light in the bedroom. As I entered the room, I switched on more lights for easy viewing in that dimly lit room. I opened one panel of the cupboard and took a hanger out for my jacket.

I came out of the room after changing replacing all the clothes neatly to where they belonged.

I grabbed the remote from the sofa and turned the TV on, selected channel 7 and threw the remote on the sofa again. CNN is the only channel on my TV that features things in a language I understand. I went towards the kitchen still looking at the TV screen thinking what to make for dinner. The kitchen sink was filled with utensils made dirty while cooking and eating the evening before. Some utensils that were used even earlier were still lying coz they were not needed the day before. One larger glass contained light brown water, darker at the base. I had consumed coffee in that yesterday, the glass reminded me of my most recent room mate who was a coffee aficionado and invariably drank coffee in the same glass. Sink contained a cooker, a bowl, 2 plates, 2 glasses, some spoons, a bigger serving spoon, frying pan and a small knife placed shabbily in the sink. The utensils were accompanied with remains of food that kept sticking to them. I always made sure that they were not big to block the drain. It reminded me of the dinner I had the day before.

I decided to make CHILA, something resembling a normal roti but made from a viscous paste as in dosa. I cleaned only the required utensils, the coming day maid would clean the entire house anyway.

The house owner provides us with a maid service of 4 hours every week. The maid comes once every week on Thursday and cleans the entire house, places clean towels and hand towels for every bed, changes the bed sheet and bed cover and also cleans any utensils that are lying in the sink or are used.

After cleaning the frying pan, bowl, serving spoon and one plate I washed my hands and wiped it using a hand towel. It was time for some music, I unlocked my laptop and created a playlist to last for a couple of hours and came back to the kitchen.Then I took some wheat flour in the bowl enough to make four rotis, added 2 table spoon of curd, a small spoonful of jeera, red chilli powder and salt to taste. An Onion was cut into small pieces and was spread in the same bowl. I then took a glassful of warm water and added to the mixture, using a bigger spoon I mixed it to make a viscous paste like the dosa batter. I mixed the paste for sometime to make it uniform. I then mounted the frying pan on the gas stove and waited for it to become hot before spilling some ghee on it. The ghee melted soon and I spread it over the entire pan surface. I mixed the batter again before pouring it on the Pan. Subsequently I held the pan by the handle off the gas stove and dexterously moved my hand to spread the batter evenly on it. The Pan was replaced on the stove. The batter started to change its color from white to yellow cascading from the edge to the centre. It began to solidify starting from the edge gradually taking the same effect towards the centre. I made a way for the serving spoon to get under the Chila and then started loosening it from the pan surface. This needs some skill which I had developed over the past couple of months cooking dinner. The Chila came out intact and I flipped the surface so that it cooked evenly on both the sides. I flipped it a couple of times before placing it on the cleaned plate. I made 3 more Chilas, modus operandi still the same.I then settled on the Dining table and savored the self made food with pickle, Lays chips and curd. Neat.

After competing my dinner I placed all the used utensils in the sink and came and sat on the sofa.I flipped thru the channels for some time and finally gave up, I took out the pen drive from my bag and inserted it in one of the USB ports. I had to review some documents from offshore and rectify them. I got back to work and continued working till I was sleepy. The music volume was reduced to prevent losing that sleepy feeling. I copied all the updated documents back to the pen drive and left for my bed room. I realized I had not spoken a single word in the past 4 hours. I had no one to speak to once I was home, the same truth crossed my sleepy mind again, just that it did not turn me poignant anymore . Deewaron ke hi kaan hote hain (even walls have ears) but why bother about tht. I got up shutting down the laptop screen, came to the bedroom, threw my shirt on the adjoining bed, lied down and pulled that cover.

KO PANGAN PARAKALO

‘KOPANGAN PARAKALO’

‘Hi! This is Vivek from First Data. Can you take the order?’

‘Yessssh’

‘One 100, One 31 and One 35’

‘Cheeken???’

‘Yeah’

‘Isspicy??’

‘Yeah all Spicy’

‘4439???’

‘Yeah that’s correct’

‘Okay. Half hour’ jovially.

That’s a standard conversation I have at around 12:15 PM almost everyday of the work week.I order food for my Indian colleagues and myself from KO PANGAN restaurant. KO PANGAN serves Thai, Chinese and Indian food.

Language and food has given us a tough time at Athens. It took us a lot of experiments before we could settle for a few things that were eatable and consumable daily.World renowned SODEXHO runs the canteen at FDI, Hellas. Hellas is the greek name of Greece. We tried quite a lot of things before finally giving up eating at the canteen.We ate things that looked like a preparation of running nose extract seasoned with dressing that reminded me of shit that came out if you had an upset stomach.

“Though it looks like a bad shit, it’s gonna taste good yaar’ one of us chuckled.

I reckon that even if I would have tasted shit, I wouldn’t have agreed to that statement.
Greeks are really fond of pork and cow meat, in all forms, and hence all the eating joints have varied preparations containing those as the basic ingredient. I don’t eat cow meat as that is something prohibited in my religion. Just that I have not been able to get over it till date as my other colleagues and so I was left with lesser options. I had to relinquish eating something that I thrive on because of the threatening H591 BIRD FLU epidemic, which has distressed numerous parts of the globe, until some saintly soul divulged that if they are cooked above 70 degree centigrade, it’s harmless to our system.

The first few weeks were tough and it brought out the cook in me. We started cooking dinner which looked good and did not taste awful. Now we cook food that still looks good and tastes satisfactory. We experimented with cooking and can now successfully boast of having learnt to prepare various items, all eatable.
The first time we ordered the greek food; pork and pitha (kinda Indian Bread), we went gaga about the taste. We had to ask a greek colleague to order that as the those people do not understand english. I am glad the KO PANGAN guy does, well you dont have to be a degree holder in english to understand words as 'spicy' and 'chicken'. The following few days we ate that till we got sick of it. It contains cooked but bland pork pieces on sticks like Tikka kebabs and Pitha along with a sauce and fresh onions cut in small pieces. We had to eat that till it was warm coz the pork pieces became hard if left for some time and then the jaws suffered.

KO PANGAN happened one of those days when one greek colleague ordered food from there and we got to look at the MENU, fortunately it was printed in English also. We tried that and from then on we have depended on it for our lunch. Most of the items are preparation of rice and though I am not a rice lover, I am addicted to KO PANGAN food.

PARAKALO means hello in greek. Hence when I call up the guy at the store picks up the phone to utters the same words which seems recorded, ‘KO PANGAN PARAKALO’ and the same conversation continues.There are numbers against the items and instead of saying the name I prefer telling him the number to prevent any mishaps.The food is delivered in 30-45 mins time and I get a call on my extension 4439 from the security desk, the ring which involuntarily leads to the secretion of gastric juices. One of us go out to get the food, pay the delivery guy and profoundly thank him for the food.

Ef Kharisto KO PANGAN.

!! Ef Kharisto is THANK YOU in greek !!