Aai casts her vote

Today, aai cast her vote like she has over the years with a strong sense of conviction, even if a single water drop in the ocean, her vote means something. Unlike the youth, it was a slight chore for her since she had to be driven down and escorted. I am guessing she probably voted for the same political party that she has for all her adult years: the party that has ensured she gets her deserved pension and addressed her medical needs as part of the CGHS scheme among others that were pertinent to her during the different phases of her life.

I, on the other hand, lack the clarity to pick my political party. This time, I came to face some politician faces marketed on ‘apta’ leaf paper handouts delivered home demanding votes while I was hoping to see some specific directives. Even a simple ‘this paper can be recycled’ at the back of the same 'apta' paper leaf marketing collateral would have bowled me over. Instead of TV ads that showed fluff and fake socialist causes supported by youngsters of a particular party, I would have been happy, if a politician would have considered one simple real life issue, say like encouraging people not to print balance receipts in ATMs if they were simply trashing it the very next moment, and supported that cause whole heartedly. 

After the fluff dies off, if I get to see a clean Ganges, I would be a happy person.
 

Everyone who went shopping instead or treated the day as a public holiday without a vote, should be ashamed. If the aged folks vote with such dedication, there's no excuse for not being committed to an important cause of our country.

My London liaison

Once, only a city my friend had moved to four years ago and then only a new place I wanted to explore this birthday, somewhere within a week of my visit, I am telling Sarah, "...if I find someone here, I will get married and settle down." More than half of the world probably shares my sentiment for very good reasons and of the fortnight I spent in London, I wanted more of it, not as a vacation, but as a place I could call home 'indefinitely'... as Anna said to Will, I will say to London.

It all started with an impression of Mumbai on the Piccadilly service line with sightings of old buildings built in red-brown bricks, followed by an NJ impression of row houses with cars parked in front and then dense gardens that screamed so loudly green in my face that my mind pondered over green spaces that one could possibly spot through the western rail service of Mumbai (apparently almost nonexistent).

After the tube and over ground train ride was done, I found myself soaking in the chilly weather that a downpour had left behind, by elephant-grey rock-platforms that welcomed everyone to be seated at Kings cross station. I smiled into the sky to have finally arrived, patiently breathing in and out, allowing myself to be immersed in the eerie London cold. After Vishal arrived, we walked down to a canal, noticed some mute swans enjoying a swim and bath, followed by our first coffee. It appeared as if I had taken a two hour flight, like I usually do for Bangalore (though technically Bangalore is only 1.2 hour away),  and come to a place I already knew in my heart. May be it was Indian (or Indian looking) population at the customs, I cannot be sure, or the welcoming waitresses at the coffee shop, that made the place familiar. I felt like a freshly baked bun in the otherwise cloudy Saturday. I must confess, the service staff in London, in my experience, is very hospitable.

The fortnight that ensued will be one of the loveliest vacations I have had.

That Saturday succeeded into a visit to Borough market, tasting bread and olive oils, and drinking a glass of champagne to celebrate my arrival. The next morning was dedicated to the Columbia flower market where I discovered Sunflowers are my most favorite of the flora species. Their bright-yellow, perky exterior balances with a soul that is high on energy, proteins and vitamins. My dad owns a piece of land and I have very often wondered if I should grow sunflowers there someday.

Mute swans & PDAs at the Hyde Park

As the week began, Vishal couldn't babysit me logistically. It was time to experiment with the tube and transport by myself. Word has it that I lived in one of the most happening areas of London, 5 minutes walk from the Hoxton station. I decided to start with buses, a relatively comprehensible mode of transport,  and took number 243 to Waterloo. London is a walk walk walk city, and walk is all I did with street side location maps and some google as references, randomly exploring places, initially by chance and then by decision. On my first day of solitude exploration, I browsed through familiar sights of London wheel, Big Ben and houses of Parliament, until running into some Horse Guards. That later took me to St. James park and a closer interaction with ducks, geese and swans of London. After spending enough time with them, on the bright, sunny London afternoon, I walked into the Green park where I had my first revelation: "London has to be one of the most romantic cities of the world." The green density of the park, the fallen brown maple leaves, and a chill in the weather complemented by shining sun, I knew better, that this park should be walked with a lover. Speaking of lovers, Londoners aren't bothered with public displays of affection. You see them very often on escalators, streets, open bars until I found a couple seated behind me on an almost empty bus. I could hear the noises of *mwah* so loud that I hoped, although in vain, to have carried my ear phones. Being raised in a country like India, I believe such PDAs is a true measure of being free. Anybody should be allowed to kiss anybody, both consenting, without heed to time, place or surroundings.

As far as weather goes, I found myself comparing the September weather of London to the February weather of Kodai canal, chill in the air perfectly complemented by the shining sun.

It is at Green park that I decided to pay Hyde Park a visit another day, my first conscious decision to see a place and what a delightful place the Serpentine lake was. Mute swans, alike the London visitors and locals, do not shy from PDAs.

For an Indian tourist, taking a leak in London is expensive, a whole 50 pence, which is a decent loaf of wheat bread in India. Answering the call of nature therefore has to be strategically considered ;-).  One strategy is to hydrate oneself only at home, or carry a plastic bag to pee in the event of emergency, which I actually saw a teenager do on a train. Bizarre, right!

I celebrated the birthday evening with friends at Sushi Samba, a restaurant on the 38th floor of Heron tower,  by ordering some champagne. Although the view was sensational, the pocket did hurt. See, that's why I think money is important in life. One should be able to spend without having to think of what one can afford - that's how rich one should be materialistically. Only if wishes were horses, sigh! But then again, birthdays come only come once a year, I find myself justifying.

Tomato Mozzarella cheese croissant

After the few initial bus rides, Liverpool street station became my go to place for the London tube travels. Pret A Manger became my breakfast place with the simplistic, tomato and Mozzarella cheese croissant as my favorite delicacy on a vegetarian day. Covent Garden was my first destination on the tube and turns out it is not a garden, just a hoity-toity shopping street with its Godivas and Diors. I bought my first Sketchers here, and boy o boy, I was completely smitten by the feather light shoes they make. People all over London wear really fancy colored shoes;  the clothes may be navy blue or black, but the shoes definitely stand out. It is a stunning sight to watch Londoners jog on a sunny afternoon at 1:10 pm in the middle of the week; the British sun is simply stimulating to spring you into action or exercise. Apart from its green gardens, I am in awe of how brilliantly laws have preserved old architecture and buildings that marry its modern constructions in complementary union. Then as another weekend arrived, we went to the famous Portobello market of Notting Hill fame. I didn't research much on the blue door but it was wonderful to explore an area where my second most favorite film was shot. Turns out, the number 23 bus, 23 being my birth date, travels via Notting Hill to the Liverpool street station. How fancy is that? Also, 20 is the local area or city code used to dial to London, which is same as Pune's. Double fancy!! ;-).

Of course there was the great food in restaurants (Tibits at Regent street for vegetarian food deserves an honorable mention), pubs, bars, discotheques et all that came packaged with the vacation as a definitive London-thing-to-do. I did some of these bits as well.

The following week, I had a date with Brighton.

I loved London, every single bit of it and London, in turn, treated me nice with bright, sunny days for more than 80% of my stay. September isn't all bright and sunny, I was lucky, I was told.

I was so enamored that I found myself wondering why I never decided to make London home, given its practical benefits of English speaking population and close vicinity to India. By the end of the fortnight, I navigated the central line as if I was meant to do it every single day. I had become accustomed to hopping on and off stations and boarding diverse lines in tune with destinations. I very often hoped, that India would have a transport system as efficient as London. With £31 oyster pass a week, I could use any buses or trains and explore my lungs out in zone 1 and 2.

What did I really love about London? I can't really pin point one thing. It will have to be a combination of old and modern architecture, efficient transport systems and the gardens in no chronological order. I also loved that people really dress up to work in suits and women do their own sexy things. Canary Wharf on a Friday evening with the setting sun and beer for company is definitely SOMETHING!

I didn't do the Shard, go inside the St. Paul's Cathedral, do the champagne experience on the London eye, go and see the Kohinoor, buy a fancy London-looking pair of shoes, and more importantly visit Madame Tussauds. I didn't want my first Jolie meeting to be in wax, how much ever skilled the artists are; I want it to be in flesh and blood. So I will probably do some of my didnts and some of my dos already done in the future with a lover. May be I will bug the hell out of somebody on the last seat of a bus with loud * mwah * sounds.

A piece I will treasure forever with me as part of my London experience is the friends I met and the friends that made this trip happen.

(L to R) with Sarah, Mrinal, Deep, Alex, Kiran and Vishal @ Kings Cross

If getting older is aimed to make you wiser, I believe, London also gave me an important lesson: Friends who host you, invite you over, spend time with you, make a point to meet, do ordinary things, sometimes extraordinary gestures, deserve a special place in your life. Their actions will always speak louder than hollow words of coulda-shoulda-woulda.

A date with Brighton

By the sea: Solitude is subjective reality

A welcome change from London comes after an hour of train travel to Brighton where the sea opens up her wide breezy arms to hug you. I could spend an hour or two simply gazing in to sea allowing myself to marinate in her sweet, soft, airy embrace.

I reached Brighton on October 1 on a bright, sunny day, contrary to how October weather should be. Yes, once again, Brighton must have loved me to keep the sun shining. I met Kiran here.

The city pace is pleasing and I didn't encounter the rush that one sees on the London tube. You can walk through the important city parts in circles. As we browsed from South to North, I was fascinated with the graffiti on Brighton walls - what a brilliant way to paint a personality, I thought. We browsed through the Brighton Pavilion, which was donated by some Indian King to hospitalize Indian soldiers during the World war.

I and Kiran hadn't been speaking to each other for a while, I must admit. But when he knew I was in London, he connected with me on Facebook and offered to show around Brighton. I must also admit, thanks to him and his chef status, I had an authentic Brighton experience and felt like Royalty. It wouldn't have been the same without him showing me around.

Kiran is owner of the "Curry Leaf Cafe" in Brighton that is gaining popularity exponentially. As I write this, the cafe won a Silver award in the new comers Brighton category. Every Brighton visitor who loves Indian food should look up the cafe and pay a visit for lunch or dinner. The chef ordered Mackerel with some tomato sauce for me, and let me say, the sauce kicked an orgasm in my mouth. So, so, sumptuous!

After you are done with lunch, visit Boho Gelato for its innovative sorbets. I tried Mojito and was completely bowled over.

On a random note, I believe, friendships has its hiccups but if good friendships are meant to be, they will always find a way to stay.

Mackerel and tomato sauce at the Curry Leaf cafe

Turns out, Kiran had two surprises for me after an appetizer grub. As we gallivanted around the Brighton streets, I found myself walking into the Jamie Oliver Cookery school on Lion street. The first surprise was a cooking class where I made Bouillabaisse. I will remember this surprise for the rest of my life because it was so thoughtful. I have always wanted to cook sea food, which I never do at home because grand mum hates meat, so to cook my first sea food dish in French cuisine at Jamie Oliver is an out of the world experience. Peter, Kiran's friend, conducted the class for two. The bouillabaisse I made was a tad low on salt, low on spice, nonetheless quite yummy.

Surprise number two, which something I guessed had to do with wines, started in the evening with wine tasting at tengreenbottles, Jubilee street. Part of the vacation plan was to visit Paris too and go champagne tasting to Reims during the harvest season of September. However I decided to do all the Schengen experience another year. So, I guess, universe found a way for me to taste wines in Brighton from different lands: Classic Cuvée (sparkling wine) from England, Clip Vinho Verde from Portugal, Framingham Pinot Gris (vegan) from New zealand, Chateau D'ollieres rose from Provence, Graje Chateau Cambon from Burgundy (may be), France, pedro ximenez sherry from Spain.

The next day we spent time by the Brighton Pier, enjoying the sea followed by brunch at Legends, some food photography at Curry Leaf cafe and so forth until it was time for me to go back to London and continue my London liaison.

London in 2014

With Vishal closer to King's cross

I am literally living this quote: ‘Travel while you are young and able. Don’t worry about the money. Just make it work. Experience is far more valuable than money ever will be’.

Fortunately, I have a rich mom who is willing to loan me some in my times of luxurious needs and for that I shall always be grateful. I am grateful to her about a lot of other things such as cooking me meals even to this day, ensuring my laundry is done et all. You can never repay this debt, unless in some cosmic circle of life and death they return as your kids. So, may be God ensures what you enjoy today, will be paid back in kind by you to the people who gave it to you, in a future life.

Last year, I decided I am going travel on every birthday of mine. This year, I am in London and disputing whether I should restrict the plan to five years because if I decide to have kid(s) then travel each year won’t always be possible. I am beginning to believe that in order to experience a selfless being, one should have kids.

Vishal, a good friend of mine, moved to London in 2010 and I decided to see him in a place he now calls home. He sent me some of his pay stubs and account statements as part of the visa ritual and I was like, “Holy Fuck!”. I am really proud of what he has achieved for himself. God bless him with all his ambitions and particularly the one where he becomes a Londoner soon so that I can visit him as often I would like to ;-).

At Green park on Sep 22, 2014

As for London, yesterday I had a revelation while walking through Green Park: London has to be one of the most romantic cities in the world. I fell in love with the city the moment I landed. I traveled for 9.5 hours with Virgin, which is definitely a wow experience, but it felt like I had taken a two hour flight to Bangalore. London didn’t feel foreign, probably because a couple of immigration officers were Indian, but I like to think there is more to it.

Given my fascination with numbers, I noticed that my flight sequence number was 29 (adds to 2 which is my life path number) and I chose 60H as my seat (adds to 5 which is my life expression number). There have been too many numbers adding to 2, 5 and another 13 that all have been linked with my life in someway as far as the entire boarding the plane journey is concerned.

Adios for now. Today, I am planning to do the Piccadilly circus, Covent garden and some impromptu decisions. London is treating me NICE. Touch wood!

The charade of nudity

So, apparently, the Facebook world has come alive over leaked photos of Jennifer Lawrence and articles have condemned the hacker's view of "women who have nude photos are sluts and whores". Rightly so. But, I wonder, if they realize they have glorified his point of view to the world even through denunciation. Who on earth would care two hoots about a hacker's POV on who sluts and whores are? Male chauvinists?

I haven't seen the pictures as yet. May be someday I will google and have an opinion such as 'okay' or 'nice' or 'absolutely delish'. Of the little bit Jennifer Lawrence that I have seen, she is absolutely ravishing and appears brilliant.

I say, as far as the human race goes, men women alike, sexual fantasy is going to excite us. Not just with celebrities but with regular people who cross our paths and invoke chemicals in our body. We also have a word, apodyopsis, the act of mentally undressing someone, to articulate that innate beginning of lust. Why otherwise would Pamela Anderson's leaked sex tapes make headlines? Some of us may have well passed that phase and some of us never will.

I support that Jennifer's private matters shouldn't be leaked online and she or any other woman is entitled to click as many nude photos of themselves as they like, even strut around naked on the streets, as long as it doesn't offend larger public sensibilities on those streets or is illegal. Also, I am with her in solidarity because it can be a traumatic experience (as revealed through Anna Scott's character in Notting Hill).

However, the first thing that bothers me of this episode is the hypocrisy. During the FIFA 2014 worldcup, nude photos of the Croatian team appeared online. Some media photographers put them there. Are we saying that the hacker and these media photographers have similar sensibilities and while we are striving for an equal world, why is the treatment of leaking out female nudity to male treated differently?

I realize that women, even today, are perceived as objects of desire but we have seen movies like disclosure where a woman can play the 'victim' to her advantage. In real life, I have met a few Indian husbands, whose wives fucked them as part of divorce settlements and also alleged that the father abused his own child to win full child custody. That is the world we will come to live in if we don't look at facts and simply favor somebody on basis of gender.

In response to all this marketing fluff that has appeared on the Facebook world, which I am not sure if is aimed to liberate the women species, I simply point out that we have actresses who have played the nudity card as a symbol of liberty and freedom: the lethal Catherine Tramell of Basic Instinct who sensationalized the screen in her skin and Gia who trotted like a naked child outside an elevator compelling her lover to stay back. Both did so in such candor, caring two hoots of worldly perception, giving some men, some women and a certain gender identities the definitive meaning of "You are somebody's reason to masturbate".

Now, after I have given two hoots to this entire charade of nudity, I am going to delve over more important things such as my Saturday and what to do with it.

p.s. I hear Jolie got married with a veil that had illustrations of her kids' drawings. That woman is PERFECT.

Perfect moment #1

Today, I felt that perfect moment of heaven on earth within the human paradigm. Until yesterday my life was stagnant, seriously! I have been in a role for four years with no promotion and there have been no signs of movement in other roles backed by that promotion opportunity. I have zero bank balance, literally. All the money I make, goes. Somewhere. Very often, I say to myself, "I need a break," from the plateau position.

This morning, I received an email from a friend where Canadian migration will open up on May 1 and my profession will be listed among the "skilled workers" they are seeking. My IELTS results are valid until May 26 which is brilliant. When I left US in 2001 after a short stint of one year, I remember telling myself, "I will come back with something I love to do." Could this actually be coming true?

I finish 5 years in IBM on May 14, which is fantastic. One of my friend's friend, SS, is going to check up on what happened at Penguin where he has submitted my synopsis and excerpts for their green light to publish. I really hope I don't have to seek other publishers; Penguin would simply take my manuscript and publish my work of heart in December 2014. By the time the book is out and marketed next year, can I see my application for immigration being approved and moving to Canada in May of next year?

Could the universe build in all these brilliant pieces one after the other seamlessly, I wondered! 

In that contemplation I found my perfect moment of heaven on earth: the feasibility of these aspirations fall in line that I want to say Tathastu to.

'Reverse engineering' of nurture

A piece of coincidence can become one's momentary realization of empathy. The adjacent picture from Humans of New York blog was one such for me. My aai (grand mum) takes a lot of pills, probably a dozen a day. She has everything under the sun: asthma, diabetes... okay probably not all. The thing is, the adjacent picture made me feel good about the fact that aai isn't alone and there are others like her who need pills to survive.

As a 20-something grandson I had no idea but as a 30-something grandson I have become more aware. It  started two years ago when she experienced some shivers and I started getting used to some medical terminologies such as s. creatinine. Turns out, it is not good for the kidneys when s. creatinine spikes and her values had reached 2.9 which are very high.

When I say, she probably has it all, I don't mean to be a cynic. But over the past two years, we have met a nephrologist to manage the s. creatinine component, done CT scans of thorax, abdomen, pelvis to investigate potential blood loss and drop of haemoglobin, CT scans of chest for her asthma condition, MRI scans of the brain because she had headaches, chest X rays, two blood transfusions amounting to a total of 7 bottles. I have also escorted her in an ambulance with the siren buzzing for one of her chest reports.

I stand in admiration of her grit, for all the nerves that have now gone weak, she hardly complains. I remember a moment looking at her face on a hospital bed where she looked exhausted but deep in sleep. She seemed content, accomplished and I found myself wishing that's how she should go - in peace - when her time eventually comes.

It was while attending to her at the hospital that I discovered a few means to pass my time. I bought my camera along and clicked bird photos around the hospital that I titled 'Aaitribute'. These photos shall always remind me of my time with her.

Sometimes when the going gets rough, I want to thank God that mom and dad have maintained decent health except for a couple of instances when we were completely panic-stricken.

I realize, these episodes of hospital visits, has made me stronger. Two years ago, I would probably say, "Holy fuck!" but today I am calm and evaluating what the next steps should be and the way forward. Today, I don't think 'fighting for survival' is as heroic as we humans make it out to be. 'Surrender to death' is an absolute legitimate, natural choice. It doesn't mean you ain't a fighter any more, it is simply one's way of saying, 'enough now'.

I have been reading Devdutt Pattnaik's tales of Shiva and Vishnu and they bring me some spiritual relief. It has made acceptance of death very natural to me. I remember his words where he says human beings have imagination, unlike animals. It is apparent because we humans are the only lot in nature who take care of their old. Isn't it? We are probably the only ones who have learned the 'reverse engineering' in nurture.

Regina Brett said, "If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back." It is true. I may go through certain stress at times because nurture can consume you completely but I cannot imagine the lives of refugees or war stricken Afganistan. I am simply glad, that aai can use the best medical attention we can provide.

We met a well known gastroenterologist yesterday, Dr. Parimal Lavate. Her blood loss still remains undiagnosed even after endoscopy, colonoscopy, CT scans of abdomen and pelvis etc. So, after yesterday's meeting we are required to do a capsule endoscopy which may most likely show a cause for loss in her small intestine. The capsule comes with a camera which has to be eaten and then goes through the entire digestive cycle until call of nature of the next day. Hasn't medicine become fancy? I am like, WOW!

That said, aai is feeling better. She cannot walk around too much because the low haemoglobin gives her breathlessness.  But otherwise she is swell and I pray to God she continues to be so - FOREVER!!

Circle of death and life

He perched on a branch of the skeletal tree, every morning, pruning himself in the sun, making his famous hammer-metal calls.

She interpreted those as his good morning wishes to her. Being able to see him from the fourth floor window of the hospital meant she was in the general ward and therefore in better health. In his primary colors, which were the foundation of all kaleidoscopic spectrum, she saw the reflection a colorful life she lived, and thereby her soul mate, who she had lost last year to a persistent and growing tumor.

With him, she raised five kids, sung lullabies to eight grand children and pampered five great grand children. She had monumental pride in their success story.

Now, in the hospital, while her kids and grand kids were invested in the responsibilities of keeping her healthy and comfortable, she was simply bored of being alive alone. She believed the Coppersmith Barbet outside the window was her lover of 55 years who came to say hello during morning tea.

Then one day, this rampant morning affair, oblivious to everybody else, stopped. It was time for the only absolute truth of the circle of death and life to play in repeat mode.

Firangi dreams

Last month my sister had a dream that I was moving to the US and the entire, extended family met at a cousin's wedding.

Earlier this week I found myself at the airport with my friend of 20+ years and I believe (don't remember correctly now) that we were headed to the UK. When I looked at Sanjeev's ticket, I called for him and said, "Sanjeev, your ticket is for Thailand. Mine is for UK." I simply shrugged my shoulders, gave a whatever response and woke up. May be we were just taking a vacation someplace where our destinations didn't match. That would be a disaster :P

This morning was a recurring dream. I am not sure where I was headed, but I found myself going to Ajit's place in the US.  Quite contrary, Sathi ends up picking me up and we head to his place. I know Sathi is seeing somebody, so I ask him, "How's xyz?", and he has this beautiful house of sturdy, grey rocks bordered with bright white lines, very modern yet very old British theme. What's more bizarre is, I have never met Ajit and Sathi in person till date. They are my Facebook friends.

My cell alarm rings.

A blog post to record dreams. My subconscious mind is up to something!