Rajeev's World

Put The Glass Down!!!!!

2012-01-17T19:52:00.003+05:30

I received this story on my Blackberry messenger from an old friend.
This story forced me to think on what is really important in life, is it the journey of life itself or the numerous ups and downs that come our way during the journey?
Do give it a thought.

The Professor began his class by holding up a glass with some water in it. He held it up for all to see and asked the students "How much do you think this glass weighs?"
'50gms!'..... '100gms!' .....'125gms' ...the students answered.
"I really don't know unless I weigh it," said the professor, "but, my question is: What would happen if I held it up like this for a few minutes?"
'Nothing' ...the students said.
'Ok what would happen if I held it up like this for an hour?' the professor asked.
'Your arm would begin to ache' said one student.
"You're right, now what would happen if I held it for a day?"
"Your arm could go numb; you might have severe muscle stress and paralysis and have to go to hospital for sure!" ventured another student and all the students laughed
"Very good. But during all this, did the weight of the glass change?" asked the professor.
'No' was the answer.
"Then what caused the arm ache and the muscle stress?"
The students were puzzled.
"What should I do now to come out of pain?" asked professor again.
"Put the glass down!" said one of the students "Exactly!" said the professor.
Life's problems are something like this. Hold it for a few minutes in your head and they seem okay. Think of them for a long time and they begin to ache. Hold it even longer and they begin to paralyze you. You will not be able to do anything.
It's important to think of the challenges or problems in your life, But EVEN MORE IMPORTANT is to 'PUT THEM DOWN' at the end of every day before you go to sleep...
That way, you are not stressed, you wake up every day fresh and strong and can
handle any issue, any challenge that comes your way!
So, when you start your day today, remember friend to 'PUT THE GLASS DOWN'

Mile-High, No Quads?

2011-12-30T23:41:00.004+05:30

A few days back, I happened to see a BBC documentary on the now defunct American carrier, Pan-Am, titled Come Fly With Me - the Story of Pan Am. The documentary traced the evolution of the airline from propeller aircraft to the jet-age heralded by the Boeing 707.

Instantly, I was taken back to the 1980s. That is when I took my journey on a quad-jet - the Boeing 707, of Uganda Airlines, probably between Entebbe and Nairobi. That was an amazing jet, with a splendid livery in the colours of the Ugandan flag - a crested crane on the tail and prominent yellow, red and black band that stretched along the fuselage.

Then followed journeys on Boeing 707s of Air-India and Zambia Airways. The Centaur on the Air-India Boeing 707 tail always looked smart. I still cannot fathom why Air-India dumped the Centaur.

The first Zambia Airways Boeing 707 I saw was at Lusaka Airport, in October 1984, at twilight, with its tail, an orange Z stylised as an eagle, set on a green background. We flew on that beauty to Bombay, in what was my most memorable intercontinental flight.

As we approached the Indian airspace, dawn broke and we woke up. It was enthralling to see two engine nacelles hanging from the wing, against the backdrop of the azure Indian Ocean. What ensued was a quick visit to the cockpit, led by an eager stewardess. The flight crew were Zambians, and were happy to show off their smart cockpit to me, a precocious 8-year old, before they commenced their descent. Those were different days and innocent thrills of seeing a flight deck at work were easy to come by. Today that's unimaginable, for obvious, security reasons.

We flew on a trijet, McDonnell Douglas DC10 after that, which was again pretty smooth, but not quite like a quad - the thrill was lacking.

My last flight on a quad was on the Air Mauritius Airbus A340 from Plaisance to Bombay in October 2005. That was a pretty interesting flight - seeing the slim red nacelles hanging from the wing was a sight to behold.

In the last few years, I flew largely on Boeing 737s, Airbus A320s, Airbus A330s and Boeing 777s. But these flights were completely devoid of the thrill that one has of peering out of the window and seeing two nacelles hanging underneath the wing!

The era of quad-jet airliners which started with the Boeing 707 in the 1960s, seems to be ending now, with twin-jets being deployed for the job. Last month, Airbus announced that it was discontinuing the A340 line. With this development, the choice of quad-engine aircrafts reduces to just two - the Boeing 747-8 family and the Airbus A380. These Jumbos are niche products, which would not make much sense for most airlines. With limited flexibility of operations, these Jumbos can operate only from a limited number of airports around the globe, as a result of which we'll see fewer and fewer quads with each passing year.

A lot has been said about the efficiency and reliability of the twin-jets, which have been extended operations certified or ETOPS certified for non-stop intercontinental operations. For a few years now, they have been deployed for non-stop operations from India to the US East Coast, overflying the the Arctic. This cuts the flying time, bypassing a stopover in continental Europe.

The twin-jets, Boeing 777, Boeing 787 and Airbus A330 have specially designed engine with a diameter exceeding the quad-engine nacelles by a factor of over 1.5. The higher diameter provides for the increased airflow through the engine for the required lift.

But twin-engines lack the redundancy that the quads provide. I dread to think of a situation on a twin-engine overflying the Arctic and one engine fails. Where would the aircraft land?

But an aviation enthusiast would lament the loss, the excitement of being mile-high (pun unintended) on an intercontinental flight and peering down upon two engines!

My Nightmare!

2011-12-23T22:56:00.004+05:30

I had a nightmare early this morning.
I dreamt that I had gotten very late at office. When I left office, I could not get any cab to get back home. After a long search I decided to walk back home. The roads were deserted and not a soul was to be seen.
And then as I was walking, I looked up and I was shocked to see fighter jets flying in a V formation - they were at least 20 of them and at quite a high altitude. Two jets were trying to engage them in a dogfight.
We were being attacked!
I was scared. There was not a single car, bus or bike on the Western Express Highway. It was dark and scary. But I had to get back home, fast.
The dogfights were going on in the air. The sounds of the fighters made the silence on the ground even more eerie.
After a long walk, I touched New Link Road. Dawn was breaking. The eerie silence was all pervasive.
Then I saw a long queue. Citizens were lining up to register for emergency evacuation.
Chills ran down my spine. That's when I woke up.
This is not an unreal scenario. With the kind of neighbours we have, we can face this scenario, though I hope we don't.
But we have to be prepared, prepared to fight back with arms, tactics and strategies. And we need to fully, unconditionally support the Indian armed forces to ensure that such nightmares don't come true, ever and forever.

La Dolce Vita, Viva Italiano!!!!

2011-12-23T18:43:00.006+05:30

Today, a Facebook contact posted an interesting fact on his wall. The post said "Pizza Margherita was named after Queen Margherita of Italy, by chefs of Naples to commemorate her visit to the city in 1889. Red tomatoes, white cheese and green Basil represent colors of the Italian flag."
Interesting facts like these are little known but they do give an interesting twist to whole experience of having the preparation.
Of all foods, I find Italian food the most gratifying. My first brush with Italian food was early in the 1980s, when my Mom's friend, an Italian nun, Sister Vitelina, invited us for a meal of cheese and macaroni, spaghetti and roast rabbit. That was amazing!
As years went by, off and on, Mom used to make amazing pasta in tomato sauce, typically for New Year eve dinners.
Then came in Pizzas. My first experience with the baked concoction was at the Sector 17 outlet of Hot Millions (or HMs as we used to call it) in Chandigarh!
Then Dominos came to India. My favourite was their Pepperoni Pizza - the melted globules of fat from the pepperoni gives a unique meaty taste.
In Delhi, I discovered the Slice of Italy which delivered gourmet pizzas and pastas, that was a welcome break from the mass produced Dominos crusts.
Another exciting find was Flavors, a trattoria under the Defence Colony flyover - I got the chance of visiting the place twice, once with colleagues and the next time, it was a date with Neeti. The place had an amazing artisanal pastas and hand-tossed, wood-fired pizzas! I haven't visited the trattoria for years now and would love to go there again.
In Bombay, despite all the glitz surrounding the city, attitudes towards food are defined by what the Gujjus want. That makes a lot of restaurants go vegetarian with a vengeance. Little Italy is one such trattoria - there used to be an outlet on New Link Road, where Neeti and I went a couple of times. The pizzas were crisp and flaky, the pastas and risottos had an earthy flavour. Then tragically the outlet shut shop - the half life of restaurants in Bombay is really short, you can safely blame that on artificially elevated real estate prices, which these outlets unviable. The closest Little Italy is now in Juhu, but finding time is a big issue. I lately heard about Ristorante Don Giovanni on Juhu Tara Road which is now undergoing a renovation. But hope it stays long enough - the Chef, Giovanni Federico, had been upset with the real estate prices for a long time.

I started experimenting with pizzas and pastas at home. Into the kitchen, came bottles of olive oil, pasta sauces, olives and capers, with fresh herbs - oregano and basil, from Godrej Nature's Basket.

Neeti came up with her version of tangy pizza sauce which came in very handy for rainy Monsoon dinners when the cook played truant.
The latest concoction we evolved is earthy pasta sauce - chargrilled tomatoes with herbs and spices which made for a delicious pasta.
What I like about Italian cuisine is the earthiness and healthy, crunchy vegetables. Tomatoes are rich in antioxidants, olives are rich in vitamins and healthy fats. Sadly, we have to rely on packaged olives and capers here.

There's lot more than the bastardised Italian that we know of from the likes of Dominos - it would be grave injustice to bucket all genres into one. One really needs to experience the various regional cuisines- Tuscan, Tyrolian, Veneto, Ligurian, Campanian, Puglian, etc. Artisanal stuff like lardo, South Tyrol speck make my tongue tingle with anticipation. Experiencing all this can only happen on a culinary tour of the country.

Till then I will eat my way to health and cry aloud "La Dolce Vita, Viva Italiano!!!!"

Smooth As Silk!!!!

2011-12-04T19:12:00.006+05:30

Long back Thai Airways had adopted "Smooth As Silk" as their commercial tagline. Those who know me as an aviation freak would think this post is about Thai Airways. No it isn't! (Sorry to disappoint aviation freaks!)

This post is all about Vidya Balan in her role as Silk in the latest Bollywood blockbuster, The Dirty Picture, which succinctly depicted the life of the southern star, Silk Smitha.

When Vidya made her Bollywood debut in the 2004 hit, Parineeta, I could tell that there was something about her acting that was unique. She got into the character of Lalita making the movie feel real.

Many men were actually smitten by her then. A close friend jovially remarked that she was the ideal "marriage material"!!!! I certainly did not go that far but I too did admire her a lot!
Then came Bhool Bhulaiyaa, which I saw on a DVD when I was travelling to Satara in January 2008. She played the role of a woman, suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder to perfection! She deserved the Filmfare Best Actress nomination for this movie.
Then the same month, I travelled to Delhi on a Kingfisher flight. She was on the same flight, in the forward first class section. For some reason, after landing she stayed back inside the cabin, presumably waiting for the rest of her retinue, while we all deplaned -that is when I got a glimpse of her. Later at the baggage claim, she waited, fidgeting with her mobile, while her bags were being collected. She looked stylish, pretty and quite slender but was quite conscious of all the attention she, the "Parineeta-wali", was getting - that forced her put on her shades.
She acted in a few movies after that but was majorly panned for her dressing style, after which came Ishiqya, which saw this southern belle getting into the role of crafty, expletive-spewing North Indian widow, who manipulated two horny crooks, played by Naseeruddin Shah and Arshad Warsi to make her ends meet. And "Ch...ium Sulphate" became the essential part of the expletive folklore!
Paa was next, which again proved that she had it in her - the ability to play non-conventional roles with an uncanny finesse. Though I have not seen No One Killed Jessica, I am told she did pack in quite a punch. By any stretch of imagination, the glamdolls and size-zeros of Bollywood could not have done even half of what she had rightfully achieved.
And this week, The Dirty Picture, a biopic on the southern siren, Silk Smitha, opened to rave reviews and record breaking collections. The portrayal of Silk was not only brutally honest to the character but was also replete with the typical 1980s' heaving bosoms and thunder thighs. From a viewer's perspective Vidya performed brilliantly, just as smooth as silk!
And already I can visualise Vidya Balan "Ooh La La-ing" her way to presentation ceremonies at award functions.

Garam Masala or Wah Baharaat?

2011-12-04T16:41:00.004+05:30

Yesterday, TLC aired the Sino-Australian restaurateur, Kylie Kwong's show Cooking With Heart & Soul recently in which she cooked up a Moroccan meal - a lamb tajine with salads and rice.
To make her tajine, Kylie used an Arab spice, Baharaat (بهارات‎), which she said was used to give a unique flavouring to Arab cuisine.
I did a quick websearch on the Baharaat on Wikipedia after the show was over. The Baharaat is a spice blend used in Arab and Middle Eastern cooking to season meats, fish and gravies.
Peppercorns, cardamom, cloves, coriander seeds, cumin seeds, cinnamon sticks and paprika form the essential ingredients of the Baharaat.
Ohhh, that is much like our own garam masala (गरम मसाला), which is ubiquitous in North Indian cuisine. Now cardamoms, cloves and pepper originated in the spice plantations on the Malabar coast, right here in India. Arab trading dhows which had been visiting Malabar for over a thousand years would have taken these spices to their lands, so today what we call garam masala is known as Baharaat in the Arab lands.
My Mom used to and still makes her supply of garam masala. She used to dry roast all these spices on a griddle, with a wonderous, exotic aroma filling the whole house. The roasted spices would then find their way into the mixer, making the aromas even more potent. The ground spices would their way into airtight bottles. The treasured spice would then be used to spice up dry vegetable preparations, chickpeas, red kidney beans and non-vegetarian gravies.
When I moved out of the nest and set up the first home at Delhi, I used to buy vacuum sealed packs of garam masala from Malviya Nagar market. That wasn't even half as good as Mom's concoction. And then Mom visited. She was shocked to see the kind of mild, tasteless garam masala we were using. That was it! She then ensured we get an endless supply of Mom's special concoction, which she would get on her monthly visits to Delhi! Homecooked food, all of a sudden, underwent a magical transformation!
And then I shifted to Bombay, got married and things took a healthier turn. Salt intake was reduced, fat intake was greatly minimised, food became less spicy, with a greater emphasis on fruits, salads and yogurts! So intake of garam masala greatly reduced.
But the magical smell of Mom's garam masala wafting through the air will still make me go crazy!

Invictus And The Madiba

2011-11-26T00:10:00.001+05:30

One great leader who had always fascinated me is the Madiba, Nelson Mandela.

The reasons for the fascination are many. For one it is the Africa connection - I had known of Mr. Mandela since 1984 or so, when the anti-Apartheid struggle was at its peak. At that time I was barely 8. Newspapers in Zambia were full of news on the anti-Apartheid struggle and Mandela. One just just could not miss that.

The second was the way Mr. Mandela maintained his dignity and guarded his sanity despite 27 years of his incarceration, which is in no way a small achievement. He came out of the Robben Island prison and literally took his nation from isolation to the center stage of the world.

Thirdly, and certainly, not lesser in importance, Mr. Mandela passed on the baton after a single term as president of the Rainbow Nation. How many world leaders have actually had the guts to do that? Our own stalwarts, in India, desperately clung on to power till they died, little did they concentrate on building systems and structures to serve the country. However, Mandela created a system that was independent of him, that lives on, despite his not being active on the political front.

Fourthly, the Madiba envisioned a nation of unity, not a nation divided by sectarianism. He walked the talk, when he supported the Springbok rugby team in the face of severe opposition. He selected the Day of the Vow, which was celebrated to commemorate the victory of the Boers over the local Zulus in 1838, in the Battle of Blood River, where over 3000 Zulus were massacred. The majority had long viewed the Day of the Vow as an oppressive celebration. However, the Madiba prevailed, and today, the Day of the Vow is celebrated as the Day of Reconciliation to foster national unity.

A few years back I read the Madiba's autobiography, The Long Walk to Freedom. More recently I saw Invictus that captured the journey of the Springbok rugby team - a symbol of Apartheid from the lows of ignominy to the heights of winning the World Cup. That was all because the Madiba rallied the Rainbow Nation's support for the Springboks. The Springboks, thanks to their skipper, Francois Pienaar on the other hand, matched the trust the nation, and the Madiba had reposed in them. Imagine how well can Indian politicians leverage use cricket to harmonize India, but I can trust them for never doing it. It's rather sad we, in India, never had a Madiba.

The Madiba's nature came out very well in an interview Francois Pienaar gave on Invictus, on how he developed a deep bond with the family.

The Madiba has had his style-statement - the Madiba shirt - shirts printed with African motifs, in the pan-African colour combination of black or green or yellow or red. He broke out of the mould - the conventional, stiff dressing style of world leaders.

The movie Invictus, as well as his autobiography did allude to the fact that Madiba drew the strength of his character from a poem, Invictus, written by William Ernest Henley, an English poet, way back in 1875. That shaped his attitude in the years after he left Robben Island.

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

If such powerful words could steer the Madiba to greatness, imagine what they can do to all of us!

The Chessboard Is Set!

2011-11-19T07:40:00.009+05:30

As I had been predicting for long, today, Asia looks like a stage perfectly set for another version of the great game.

The last two months have been peppered with small developments all over Asia that signal a significant undertones of the evolving great game.

China has been threatening Indian vessels - both naval and exploratory vessels operating in the South China Sea, off the Vietnamese coast, which is claimed by China as its own fiefdom, ignoring the rights of the littoral states that abut the sea. Vietnam and Philippines have also faced the brunt of Chinese aggression in the region. By that logic, the entire Indian Ocean and the Bay of Bengal is our area, and wouldn't it be sane to boot the Chinese from its upcoming bases and listening posts in Myanmar (Coco Islands) and Sri Lanka.

Another signal of capitulation was the American denial of advanced F-16 fighter jets to Taiwan - that is despite the Taiwan Relations Act of 1979 which obligates the United States to provide weaponry for defence of Taiwan against the obvious aggressor. Instead the Americans dangled an offer to upgrade Taiwan's aging F-16 fleet. It appeared that the United States capitulated under Chinese pressure. Was there a quid-pro-quo - the United States gives up in return for Chinese economic support?

But then Japan, the United States, Australia and India revived the idea of a dialogue on regional security. It is understood from the press that India expressed its discomfort in participating in the dialogue given the mistrust that Australia had shown towards India by denying us uranium supplies. The Rudd doctrine seems to have been given the boot by Julia Gillard, in an unprecedented, but pragmatic move.

Australia because of its strong regional presence has an important role to play, India knows that and would be willing work alongside the Australians. The major irritant, uranium, would hopefully be dealt with, but public opinion in India could be a deciding factor, for there has been simmering anger over continued racist attacks against Indian diaspora in Australia.

But then baby steps are being taken and some military exercises are being planned.

Within India, not only in the north, but also in the south, there is a great public anxiety over the Chinese military build-up on the northern borders. The government has to get its act together to equip the forces in the north with infrastructure and armaments. We need fighter squadrons and mountain battalions in these regions. India, according to the defence journalist, Shiv Aroor, is likely to test fire the Agni V missile, with a range that covers the whole of China and beyond.

India off late has given the Chinese more than enough signals that we would not capitulate. Deepening ties with Vietnam have led to speculate that it emerge as "India's Pakistan" vis-a-vis China. I doubt that personally, but certainly we can work together in an alliance.

Defence buys from the United States are increasing. That without question, as history has proved, lays the foundation for military alliances.

The Chinese will certainly be irritated with the Americans and the Australians with the opening of the Darwin military base, one of America's biggest bases in the region. The first brick of the alliance has been laid.

China has economic and military might, but at the same time its conduct has made it appear demonic in the region, laying to rest all that talk about the "peaceful rise". If such conduct continues, Asian powers with the United States will coalesce into an Asian NATO. India should not shy away from partnering the United States, Australia, Japan, Vietnam and other powers here in the region, as Chinese provocation would not abate any time now. That was obvious when the Chinese Ambassador to New Delhi, Zhang Yan, asked an Indian journalist to shut up when being questioned about an inaccurate depiction of the Indo-Tibetan border. If the Chinese provocation continues, we do have the Tibetan card to play.

The next 15 years will, undoubtedly, be very interesting. The strategies will play out on this vast chessboard that stretches from the Red Sea to the Pacific. Its a big question as to who would checkmate whom!

But the big questions today are quite a few. Is the ostrich is finally taking its head out of the sand? Is finally India finally playing a strategic game or is it still making unconnected tactical moves?

Bangalored Again!!!!

2011-11-19T01:30:00.008+05:30

There are a few places that one loves to visit. Bangalore is one such place for me.

I landed in Bangalore early yesterday morning, en route to Maddur on the Bangalore Mysore Highway.

One of the worst things about traveling on early morning flights is the way the sleep pattern gets screwed. But the cool weather of Bangalore city that I experienced on landing had a magical effect of instantly invigorating my sleep deprived mind and soul.

In a few moments we were on the road headed towards Maddur. The sad part about cities here is the painful commute one has to endure. It took us a painful 90 minutes to get to the outskirts of Bangalore city. Once we were out of the city, we almost flew! The highway is pretty smooth and we cruised along at speed of over 100 kilometers an hour.

In about an hours time, we touched Janalokpada. That is where Heaven truly is, Heaven on earth!!! I meant Kamat's Lokaruchi. I had written about the lovely time we had at Kamat's Lokaruchi a few months back and this opportunity of being here at Kamat's Lokaruchi again was like Godsend!

It was nearly 11 am, a good time for coffee. We landed up at Kamat's and ordered coffees and some snacks - rava dosai, mude idlis (a Mangalorean variant of the idli, steamed in banana leaves) and vadais.

The rava dosai was unique and flavourful. Ginger and whole peppercorns had been mixed in the batter and the flavours of these spices blended into the crêpe really well! I bet these kinds of dosais are never to be found in cities like Mumbai or Delhi. The ambiance was very traditional and rustic - a throwback to yesteryears!

I was tempted to have a vadai with the filter coffee. The vadai was crisp on the outside but really soft on the inside, which made devouring the vadai an absolutely divine experience. The filter coffee was strong and steaming, an absolute nirvana for the sleep deprived soul!

The coffee did the magic - we were awake for the 30 minute drive into Maddur! The detour from the highway took us deep into the countryside. Green paddy fields, flowering sugarcanes and coconut groves made for an idyllic picture postcard backdrop. We stopped to have sugarcane juice. It was ages since I had the green nectar. This variety was unique, it was spiced with ginger, mint and rock salt. As we stood under the shade of coconut palms sipping on the juice, there was a cool breeze blowing, but the sun was warm! It was a pretty enchanting sight!

And then it was time to return to Bangalore city. It was 3PM, we were famished. We had to stop again at Kamat's Lokaruchi for a north Karnataka thali! Again that was an astounding meal, with baby aubergines in a spicy gravy, assorted greens, chutneys, pickles, sambhars and rasams!

Soon we were back in Bangalore and there was work to attend to. After finishing off my meetings, it was time to catch-up with old friends.

I met one of our friends who have a baby girl. This was the first time I was meeting the little one. What a pretty little kid she is! In the beginning she was quite cranky. But then I gave her two brightly coloured boxes of toys that I had bought for her earlier that evening. Her eyes lit up, her lips curved into the sweetest smile I had ever seen. The smile revealed one tooth on the upper jaw and two on the lower, much like stalactites and stalagmites in cave!

She looked at her mom for approval - the nod transformed her crankiness into squeals of pure unadulterated joy! What a sight that was! Kids are somehow like clean new slates - minds with clear and clean emotion. As one grows older, experiences cloud the slate, that is the way of this world!

The next port of call was at an old friend's place. We both studied together, for two years, in higher secondary, at DAV College, Chandigarh. We became friends and he was a vital part of my support system in Chandigarh. At that time, way back in 1992, long distance calls were exorbitant. Calling home was a luxury. My hostel had just one phone for the 1000 of us, that too for a limited 2-3 hours in the afternoon. So my folks used to leave urgent messages at my friend's place, who incidentally was a day scholar. The next day, I would promptly get the message. Sometimes when I was homesick, I used to visit his home in Sector 44 to have lunch! What a welcome relief that used to be from the watery, tasteless hostel food - round fluffy chapattis, nice thick dal and vegetables.

After we graduated from DAV College, my pal and his family shifted to Delhi while I stayed on, joined PEC in Chandigarh. We stayed in touch for 2 years after that - he went on to do a hotel management course at Jaipur. Then we lost touch.

But then a few years back, I joined Facebook and soon realised that this kind of social networking was a wonderful way to reconnect with long-lost old pals. I finally tracked him on Facebook last Diwali. We spoke a couple of times and did try to meet when I was in Bangalore or he was in Mumbai, but the meeting was elusive.

This was the chance - meeting an old pal after something like 17-18 years. He invited me home for a Biryani dinner! And then we met - my friend had not changed a bit. He is just the same. It was nice hear his stories of how he moved from hotel management to the airline industry to the Indian Army and then to a corporate role. All I could do is admire his hardiness and adaptability to varied roles!

We had a few Breezers followed by the amazing chicken Biryani and just went on talking late into the night about DAV, Chandigarh city, life in Delhi and stuff of that sort!

I must say it was quite an eventful day. It's always invigorating catching up with old friends and spending time with babies - that's what I call a heady cocktail of nostalgia and envisioning the tomorrow that the little ones of today will create when they grow up!

Celebrate Gender Equality!

2011-11-16T21:56:00.010+05:30

There have been two interesting developments or events as you may call them, in the recent past and today. These events could give a new and a positive direction to the Indian society.

For a little over a month now, Colors, a Hindi entertainment channel, has been telecasting a reality show, Bigg Boss, which has been modeled on UK's Big Brother. While the show this year treads on the fine line dividing decency and indecency, the channel did a good thing by getting in a transgender activist, Laxmi Tripathi, as a contestant on the show.

In Indian society, transgenders are looked with a heightened sense of fear, disgust and contempt. Little do we realise that transgenders are as much as humans as we are, they are as much as God's children as we are and are as much as Indian citizens as we all are. They are the way the are for no fault of theirs but they too have the same rights that we do. So what makes us discriminate against them? It is high time we think about it.

It is a known fact that in medieval era, transgenders were quite respected for their loyalty, and were employed as advisers, government officials and personal bodyguards of the royalty of that time. That gave them quite an exalted position in society.

Another big issue facing India, or rather looming large over India is the declining sex-ratio, which could derail India's economic success. Today the brouhaha in the media and amongst the Twitterati on birth of a girl child in the Bachchan family gives me hope that we could arrest this sad practice.

Personally I have never been a fan of the family. I got quite a shock, when 2 years back, we were at Aamby Valley for an offsite. Mr. Amitabh Bachchan happened to be there, shooting for a television show. A colleague, who is normally quite reserved and serious, caught a glimpse of the star. And the transformation was instant - this guy kept beaming for the next 3 days, as though he had achieved all that he had to. This is the way people idolise this family.

Frankly I don't think too highly of the family at all - they are far too snooty. We once met and got photographed with the Junior B, Abhishek. As he was speaking to our group, his phone rang. The guy disconnected the call. We obviously didn't ask him who called.

But out of the blue, the guy exclaimed with glee "Oh, it was my wife!" Good, heavens, we all know that the ex-Miss World, Aishwarya Rai, is his wife. It seemed that he wanted us all to realise, realise all over again, that he was married to the ex-Miss World! Should we have said "Wow!!!"?

(Then came the best part, when one of us in the group said this in fairly audible tone - "Bugger, if he didn't want to speak to Aish, he could have given me the phone.")

All this trivia is okay, but the fact is that the whole country idolises the first family of Bollywood, the B Family. And today, Baby B, a girl child has entered the B Family. The whole family is rejoicing, so are the rest of Bollywood and their fanatic fans.

This should be a good signal for the rest of India that the birth of a girl is reason to celebrate. In fact the B Family could do well as symbols in the anti-female-infanticide campaign, which is critical especially since the sex-ratio in the prosperous parts of India, South Mumbai, Delhi, Gujarat, Haryana and Punjab, is abysmal.

I am not homo-phobic, but then if the sex-ratio continues to fall, what option would the males of India have? Save the girl child today, else your son will be forced to be a gay tomorrow!

So celebrate gender equality!

Hope Kingfisher Lives!

2011-11-12T17:32:00.010+05:30

The crisis which had been brewing in Indian aviation for some time now, has come to what seems to be a climax.

Kingfisher Airlines has reported record accumulated losses and has had to curtail flights to minimise operational losses. Kingfisher did not start off this way. The airline was a breath of fresh air in Indian aviation.

The day Kingfisher was launched, I happened to be at CSI Airport's Terminal 2B in May 2005. The Air-India hanger next to the terminal was the venue for the launch party. The new Airbus A320, with its Kingfisher emblazoned red tail, was looking smart.

Then, a few months later, in August 2005, Neeti was the first, in our family, to travel on the new airline on the Delhi-Bangalore-Delhi sector. She kept raving about the service and the IFE, in-flight entertainment, a first in Indian aviation. She was not wrong.

I took my first Kingfisher flight on the Bombay-Delhi-Bombay sector in October 2005 and I too was blown over. The aircraft were new Airbus A320s, clean, spic and span and smelt fresh. The decor was warm, very much unlike Air-India or Jet Airways.

Despite the titillation onboard, suggestively skirted flight attendants, the launch of the airline was an epochal event in Indian aviation. Service was good, food was great, the IFE was a first - no I am not referring the red-skirted two-legged kind of IFE, but the in-flight entertainment programmes. They pioneered the concept of web check ins and seat selection. I dumped Air-India Flying Returns frequent flier membership and took to joining King Club with gusto.

In all, Kingfisher was a breath of fresh air. They forced Jet Airways, which by then had become quite a haughty brand, with staff having an arrogant and "holier than thou attitude", to change.

The credit for this went to Mr. Vijay Mallya, who claimed we, the passengers on board, were like guests in his home. I truly did feel so, felt like a king on board.

But Mr. Mallya wanted to grow, grow fast and target profitable international routes. To get to fly abroad, he acquired Air Deccan (which was about to complete the required 5 years before international operations could commence).

The airline announced orders for a number of widebodies - A330s, A340s, A350s and A380s. It was widely believed that Mr. Mallya wanted to fly the A340s non-stop between the world's greatest Silicon Valleys - Bangalore and San Francisco. That made a lot of sense.

By the global credit crisis struck. The already loss-making Air Deccan lived on as the low cost variant of the airline. That certainly come naturally to Mr. Mallya and Kingfisher, which by then was known for its flamboyance.

Payments for the widebodies became due. The airline took deliveries of the A330s, five in all, and launched them on select international routes - London and Hong Kong only, while the other international destinations were served by the A320 family.

While the A340s were ready at the Airbus facilities at Toulouse and had already been painted in Kingfisher colours, Kingfisher was forced to cancel the order, and these aircraft went to Arik Air of Nigeria. The dreams of Kingfisher flying non-stop to San Francisco went straight into the trash can.

An aviation blog Bangaloreaviation.com says: "Clearly, Arik saw a good thing in the tremendous effort put in by Dr. Mallya and the team at Kingfisher, in designing the interior of their A340-500, and plans to use the same aircraft configuration, for long-haul services to London, New York and Houston."

After the Air Deccan acquisition and the credit crisis, Kingfisher service deteriorated prompting me to shift loyalties to Jet Airways. But when I recently traveled on Kingfisher on the Bombay-Hyderabad sector, I was shocked to discover that they don't serve butter anymore with breakfast. That spoke of the impending disaster.

But today, the airline which dreamt of new horizons and forced arrogant incumbents, like Jet Airways, to change is on the verge of a saddening closure.

It is even more painful to see Twitterati joking about the impending collapse. Truly speaking, had Mr. Mallya succeeded, he would have been feted as an avatar of the legendary JRD Tata. But the sad fact of this world is that success is a bastard, and no one loves people who failed.

It has to be emphasised that the role the government has played has left a lot to be desired. They need to recognise that a healthy vibrant aviation sector is essential for a growing economy, but they chose to overtax the sector and pad up the costs artificially, which has been counterproductive. Look the support the Gulf airlines get, or even what the African carriers get. The Indian government has done zilch in comparison.

In such a scenario, a one-time bailout, for all airlines, would the best atonement, for allowing airlines to fail would be counterproductive for India, which should one of the top five economies in the next 20 years.

And as an aviation enthusiast, it would be sad to see Kingfisher Airlines die.

Sinful Nirvana!!!!!

2011-10-29T18:16:00.004+05:30

Today afternoon, Neeti and I had to drive down to Churchgate for an appointment with our home mortgage provider.

The meeting was at 3PM. Keeping a sufficient margin, for delays in traffic, we left home at 1PM.

With the kind of randomness the traffic in the city has, unexpectedly we reached Churchgate at 1.45PM.

We needed to kill time, we needed to quench our thirst in the sweltering heat of 37 degrees and we were famished.

Eureka! Just as Archimedes discovered buoyancy in his tub, we figured out that we were headed to Stadium, despite having a choice of other decent eateries around.

Stadium is an Irani café by the side of Churchgate station.

I first visited Stadium way back in 2000. And that was just the beginning. I kept coming back for more and more of their delights.

This was the place that I used to come to enjoy the bun maskas, keema paos, bhurji paos, dhansaks, keema ghotalas, caramel custards, during those good old days when office was at Churchgate! I once forgot my handphone there after a late Sunday afternoon snack. We had reached Annie Besant Road in Worli when I realised what an ass I was to forget my lifeline there. We turned around and drove back to retrieve the gadget, which had been safely kept by the cashier! Thank God for such souls!

The place is quite old, but is airy, with a ceiling that is at least 7-8 metres high, with a large entrance and fairly big windows - that's the closest you can get to dining I.

The tables were small but neatly laid out diagonally with charming green check table cloths covered with a glass sheet.

But change comes, slowly but surely. The green check table cloths were sadly gone! They were all replaced with brown table cloths.

As was customary, we went straight to the point. The order was for pao-bhurjis. Pao is what Mumbaikars call buns - the word is derived from the way the first colonisers of this amazing called the bread way back in 1500s.

The Stadium bhurji, a spicy scrambled egg preparation, with chopped onions, chillies, tomatoes and spices was greasy to the last morsel.

The paos that Stadium serves are soft, flaky and smell fresh, as though they've just been taken out of the clay oven!

We went for it - impatiently tore open the paos into morsels larger than bite-sizes and scooped out the spicy steaming bhurji, going into our salivating mouths! What a sinful nirvana!

To get all the grease settled in our tummies, I went in for a black tea, while Neeti took a lemon soda! Wow, what a meal.

After we were done with our appointment, we headed home. Both of us fell asleep the moment we left HT Parekh Marg. I was just woken up by the driver, as the Bandra Worli Sealink toll plaza was approaching!

The sinful nirvana had done its magic!

Look Beyond The Surface!!!!

2011-10-24T23:06:00.002+05:30

One more inspirational gem from the internet:

A bat who fell upon the ground and was caught by a weasel pleaded to be spared his life. The weasel refused, saying that he was by nature the enemy of all birds. The bat assured him that he was not a bird, but a mouse, and thus was set free.
Shortly afterwards the bat again fell to the ground and was caught by another weasel, whom he likewise entreated not to eat him. The weasel said that he had a special hostility to mice. The bat assured him that he was not a mouse, but a bat, and thus a second time escaped.
The moral of the story? It is wise to turn unfortunate circumstances in your favor. Look beyond the surface.
You may find a varying perspective or option that can help turn things around.

Never Give Up

2011-10-23T08:28:00.001+05:30

Another dose of inspiration:

A frog was hopping around a farmyard, when it decided to investigate the barn. Being somewhat careless, and maybe a little too curious, he ended up falling into a pail half-filled with fresh milk.
As he swam about attempting to reach the top of the pail, he found that the sides of the pail were too high and steep to reach. He tried to stretch his back legs to push off the bottom of the pail but found it too deep.
But this frog was determined not to give up, and he continued to struggle. He kicked and squirmed and kicked and squirmed, untilat last, all his churning about in the milk had turned the milk into a big hunk of butter. The butter was now solid enough for him to climb onto and get out of the pail!
The Moral of The Story? "Never Give Up!"

Break Free!

2011-10-23T07:48:00.001+05:30

Another great story picked up from the net, is here to inspire you to break free.

Most people are like the circus elephant. Have you ever seen a giant elephant in an indoor arena tied to a little wooden stake. That huge creature can pick up two thousand pounds with its trunk, yet it calmly stays tied.

Why?

When that elephant was just a baby, and not very strong, it was tied by a huge chain to an iron stake that could not be moved. Regardless of how hard it tried, it could not break the chain and run free. After it a while it just gave up.

Later, when it is strong, it never attempts to break free.
The "imprint" is permanent. "I can't! I can't!' it says.

There are millions of people who behave like this creature of the circus. They have been bound, tied and told "You'll never make it," so many times they finally call it quits. The may have dreams, but the "imprinting" keeps pulling them back.

Today, eliminate the source of your limitations. When you mentally break free, the boundaries will be removed from your future.

Be An Eagle & Soar!

2011-10-22T20:02:00.001+05:30

I cam across this story on the internet which inspires you to follow your dreams. Read on and follow your dreams!

Once upon a time, there was a large mountainside, where an eagle's nest rested. The eagle's nest contained four large eagle eggs. One day an earthquake rocked the mountain causing one of the eggs to roll down the mountain, to a chicken farm, located in the valley below.
The chickens knew that they must protect and care for the eagle's egg, so an old hen volunteered to nurture and raise the large egg. One day, the egg hatched and a beautiful eagle was born.
Sadly, however, the eagle was raised to be a chicken. Soon, the eagle believed he was nothing more than a chicken. The eagle loved his home and family, but his spirit cried out for more.
While playing a game on the farm one day, the eagle looked to the skies above and noticed a group of mighty eagles soaring in the skies. "Oh," the eagle cried, "I wish I could soar like those birds."
The chickens roared with laughter, "You cannot soar with those birds. You are a chicken and chickens do not soar."
The eagle continued staring, at his real family up above, dreaming that he could be with them. Each time the eagle would let his dreams be known, he was told it couldn't be done. That is what the eagle learned to believe.
The eagle, after time, stopped dreaming and continued to live his life like a chicken. Finally, after a long life as a chicken, the eagle passed away.
The moral of the story: You become what you believe you are; so if you ever dream to become an eagle follow your dreams, not the words of a chicken.

The Arty Café, Earthy Food & Caife Gaelach!

2011-10-22T19:17:00.001+05:30

After a day of running around the city running errands and completing odd-jobs that had piled over the weeks, we missed our lunch. By evening, Neeti and I were famished, craving for anything edible with, literally, an intense fire in the belly!

As we finished the pending tasks at Santa Cruz (West), we took the the SV Road towards home. As we drove along the road, we recced the outlets there - Dominoes and Subway were ruled out. We turned left towards Mithibai College. Neeti suggested that we try our Amar Juice Centre or the Mithibai canteen. I vetoed that - Amar Juice Centre is at best overrated or at worst crappy! And I ruled out the Mithibai canteen as well - I wanted a wee-bit of sophistication at the place where we ate, instead of having raging hormones, strange accents with weird hair-dos around us.

As we approached the Gulmohur Road junction, I suggested that we head to Prithvi Café. With some amount of trepidation Neeti agreed and we headed towards Janki Kutir.

After parking the car on the road we walked into Janki Kutir. Janki Kutir is anything unlike any other place in Mumbai. With cobbled streets, giant leafy trees and single or double storied apartments, Janki Kutir has a certain village-like appeal.

Nestled in one of the cobbled streets lies Prithvi Theatre - this place is an institution in itself. It was set up by the veteran actor, Mr. Shashi Kapoor in the memory of his father, Mr. Prithviraj Kapoor, the doyen of Indian cinema!

Today we returned to the theatre after nearly 3 years. The place was bustling with people looking forward to the next play. There was other groups, arty people as was evident by their looks and style of dressing, gathered at the open air Café sipping on endless cups of teas, coffees and sodas, having long winding intellectual discussions. Makarand Deshpande was roaming around, so were a number of other theatre and television personalities.

The Café used to have a decent array of exceptional continental bites - baked beans on toast, sauteed mushrooms on toast, besides omelettes and beverages - Irish coffee has top of mind recall when it comes to Prithvi Café. But a few years back the Café contractor had changed and this was the first time we were visiting after the transition.

The croissants, muffins, sandwiches and other bites on display at the counter were hardly appealing. There was a chaat counter, the sev puri kinds, which hardly appeals to any self-respecting North Indian - that was easily passable.

At the very end, much to our relief, we discovered a new section serving full meals. The menu was limited but the waiter was eager to help. We ordered a dal makhani, gobhi paratha, roomali roti and tawa chicken, with lime soda. For some reason, I expected a mediocre meal, but the full bloodied earthy tastes were a pleasant revelation.

The dal makhani was authentic, the lentils were soft, the gravy thickened over the hours in true north-western style! The chicken was tender in a spicy gravy reduced over the heavy iron griddle. The roomali rotis were flaky and thin. The gobhi parathas were delectably thick with a generous filling of spicy grated cauliflower. Our waiter, Qureishi, was exceptionally patient and very courteous, a personality trait which is rarely found in newer eateries.

After quickly gulping down our early dinner, we turned our attention to the beverages. I am always ready for Irish coffee, while Neeti selected green tea with a pinch of lime.

As legend has it, Irish coffee or Caife Gaelach as the Irish would call it, was concocted by Joseph Sheridan, a head chef at Shannon Airport, after a group of American passengers disembarked from a Pan Am flying boat on a miserable winter evening in the 1940s. Sheridan added whiskey to the coffee to warm the passengers. After the passengers asked if they were being served Brazilian coffee, Sheridan told them it was Irish coffee. So began the legend!

Prithvi Café does not use whiskey, instead it uses a flavouring. The glass of flavoured black coffee was topped with whipped cream, a centimetre thick and a coffee bean on the centre.

Although, Irish coffees are available at Café Coffee Days and Baristas, the Irish coffees here at Prithvi are different - the espresso is distinctly bitter here, the whiskey flavouring intense and whipped cream is barely sweet, making the whole sensation intensely flavourful!

Thankfully, though the menus at Prithvi have evolved, Irish coffee remains strong on the menu!

Headwinds or Tailwinds? - Some More Random Thoughts....

2011-10-18T22:11:00.003+05:30

A few weeks back, I had written a blog titled "Headwinds or Tailwinds?" on the latest in aviation, including the launch of the Boeing 787 Dreamliner.

I received an interesting comment on the blog post from a gentleman, Mr. Rodrick Rajive Lal, who observed:

Yes, we have shrunk distances! The Dreamliner goes a long way from the Boeing 720s and 707s that I used to fly with my parents from Addis Ababa to Mumbai. Then planes had to land in Aden to refuel because they burned a lot of fuel while taking off from Addis, blame the altitude! Then came the 767s, one of which crashed of the Comoros islands after it was hijacked. The moot question is, Do we need aircraft for long distances, or do we need aircraft for shorter hops? The Second question is, in spite of the hype, will the Dreamliner sell? The Airbus A380 is a high capacity aircraft. I wonder whether it will sell in large numbers because it would not be cost effective to fly below its full capacity! The same goes for the Dreamliner, will it be cost effective, will it be a money spinner, would you like to bet your money on it?

So true, we have come a long way in air travel. But the whole charm of flying in a Boeing 707 was something that is almost indescribable. My mind still has vivid memories of the very regal Air-India Boeing 707s in the early 1980s and that of the Zambia Airways Boeing 707, resplendent in the pan-African colours, and the classic "Z" stylised as an eagle on the green tail!

Those were the days when there was a certain charm in flying. Now it is more of a chore. And sadly now, there is only one scheduled operator of the Boeing 707 - Saha Air of Iran! The other Boeing 707s are either junked in boneyards of Arizona or the Mojave Desert in California or operate as fuel tankers for air defence forces, especially in the United States and other NATO countries. The Indian Air Force also did operate a fleet of Boeing 707s, but those are rusting away in the Palam Technical Area of Delhi Airport - they are clearly visible from the road that links Terminal 1 and Terminal 3.

I recall travelling in an Ethiopian Airlines Boeing 727 from Addis Ababa to Bombay in 1981. It was raining heavily when we boarded the trijet through an aerobridge - that was such a wow for me, a 5 year old then! As we took off from Addis Ababa, there was a lovely site of green terraced fields on hillsides - those memories are crystal clear. The majestic Lion of Judah, which symbolised the airline was everywhere on board - on the meal trays, napkins, etc. Then the meal that was served was one of the yummiest I had!

My sister recently travelled Ethiopian from Washington DC to Entebbe, and she did say the airline is still damn good - in the same period, Air-India has gone to the dogs (sic!). As was acknowledged by the Economist a few months back, Ethiopian, South African Airways and Kenya Airways are effectively serving the world by linking major commercial centres of the world to African cities.

Now Mr. Lal spoke about the Ethiopian Airlines Boeing 767, flight ET 961 crashing off the Comoros Islands. Yes, that was a sad incident which was widely publicised in India in 1996 - the flight originated in Bombay and after a stopover at Addis Ababa and was headed to Nairobi. The flight was hijacked by Ethiopians demanding asylum in Australia. The brave pilots refused to give in to the demands and the aircraft soon ran out of fuel and had crash land in the Indian Ocean. The horrific incident was videotaped by a South African couple on the Comoran beach, who actually though that the Boeing 767 was a part of an airshow.

Now coming to whether the Airbus A380 will be a viable option for airlines, in the long term, or not - well that's anyone's guess. But there are certain high density routes where such a massive capacity can be deployed. Airlines in Japan already deploy Boeing 747s on domestic routes. Korean carriers deploy Boeing 747s and Airbus A380s between Seoul and Hong Kong. There is a market at least for now. The Centre for Aviation brought out a listing of the busiest air routes last month, and the Delhi - Bombay route was listed as the 8th busiest in the world. Imagine, if we had carriers that were imaginative enough, a fleet of 5 Airbus A380s would be good enough to put the Rajdhani Express of the Indian Railways out of business - economies of scale will push down prices. We need to realise that travel time has an economic cost - it does not make sense to travel for over 16 hours when you do it in 3 hours, taking into account the checkin time.

The Dreamliner will sell - the aircraft is built with composites and plastics, making it much much lighter than similar aircraft in its class. In this age, where fuel costs are high and emission trading schemes are being enforced in the EU, airlines would look at the likes of the Boeing 787 and Airbus A350 favourably.

నమస్కారం రాజమండ్రి - Namaskaram Rajahmundry!

2011-10-06T23:17:00.004+05:30

About two weeks back, I travelled to Rajahmundry on the eastern coast of India. Strategically located on the banks of the banks of the mighty Godavari river and the city is base for India's future energy security - it's the principal city providing logistical support to India's offshore gasfields located in the Krishna-Godavari basin.
As our Kingfisher Airlines ATR72-500 turboprop descended towards Rajahmundry's tiny airport, we hit an air-pocket and I was jolted out of my snooze mode. What I was wonderous - the mighty Godavari and magnificently long bridges spanning the width of the river. It took me a while to start clicking on my camera phone, obviously it was in airplane mode.
When I did start clicking, all I could see was endless stretches of enchanting greens and coconut groves, something that places like Kerala are fast losing. We had a bumpy landing and the ATR72-500 taxied noisily, with its characteristic sound (which is undoubtedly so retro), towards the terminal building. There was a private jet - Reliance Industries' Dassault Falcon 900EX with a VT-AKU designator neatly parked in tiny bay. The company operates flights between Bombay and Rajahmundry on a daily basis ferrying executives and engineers to their gasfields in the Krishna-Godavari basin. The terminal building was tiny - no conveyor belts(!) - baggage was brought out in tractor trolleys. Despite the lack of amenities, the emergence of air connectivity has brought about a change. Hyderabad is no longer an overnight train ride, its just 45 minutes away, with easy connectivity to the rest of India, and of course the world. The flight was full, proving the potential, but there is more potential to connect other parts of our country. As we drove out of the airport terminal towards the city, the greenery looked even more inviting. If tourism were to develop in these parts, coastal Andhra could give Kerala and Goa a good run for their money.
After a few visits and meetings, it was time to break for food. There was an amazing array of spicy sambhars, rasams, fiery chicken curry and succulent freshwater prawns, all in true spicy Andhra style. Coming from Bombay, where we are used to sea-water prawns, the freshwater prawns here were different - incredibly sweet, when compared. This was a welcome change - the sweetness of the prawns blended well with the fieriness of the green chilly gravy! Despite being a full-bloodied North Indian, I would concede that spicy Andhra food is best enjoyed with steamed rice! And to top it all, there was a thick green, sour and spicy, gongura chutney that went very well with the rice.
Curd rice brings every South Indian meal to a fitting end and as I was enjoying the curd rice, I was offered a sweet called Sunnundalu - dark brown balls, which were absolutely heavenly. I was later told that the sunnundalu prepared along the Andhra coast has jaggery as an ingredient, which gives it a dark brown colour, whereas the rest of Andhra uses sugar, giving it a lighter texture.
By then the day was almost over and it was time to retire to my hotel room, but I was fixated on one thing - getting a big box of sunnundalu to take back home.
Next morning we had a flight at 11 back to Hyderabad, but markets in Rajahmundry only open at a leisurely pace, so it became Mission Sunnundalu for Hyderabad!
I had a 6 hour stopover at Hyderabad with two meetings scheduled. In between two meetings, I was directed to G. Pullareddy Sweets at Begumpet, where I did get my pack of treasured sunnundalus! Though these sunnundalus were half as good as those I had at Rajahmundry, they did last me long enough till now, as worthy accompaniments to my bedtime cup of tea!
Rajahmundry is one of those many offbeat gems that India has which are unknown, but with unlimited sights that please the soul, with delectable cuisine that can fire up your excitement and what not! I wish places like these prosper with sustainable tourism unlike what we have seen in Goa or in Kerala!

Up In The Air .... Part 3

2011-10-01T13:17:00.004+05:30

The hangover's still there, the hangover of visiting Ladakh back in August earlier this year. This post reflects that hangover, it simply relives the beauty of the grand Himalayan range from up in the air.
The first view of the sun rise, snow clad mountains basking in the golden burst of dawn and first sight of the mighty peaks were captured forever by our lenses and still continue to mesmerise me and make me speechless....

It was soon time to head back home to the grime, sweat and hypertension that a four hour commute, mindlessness of city life and work-stress. As we looked down at the bounties of nature and captured the enduring memories, I thought to myself, "Is this mindlessness worth it afterall?"
"Will I ever die with a sense of contentment that I have lived, I have seen, I have experienced the world?"
"How much is enough?"
These questions bugged me as we flew back from Ladakh, and they still do!

Headwinds or Tailwinds?

2011-09-30T23:57:00.011+05:30

This was quite a week for aviation.
ANA took delivery of its first Boeing 787 Dreamliner at Boeing's facilities in Everett, Washington on September 25, 2011 following which the aircraft flew to Narita, Japan to commence scheduled operations shortly.
It is believed that initially, Boeing had planned for the maiden flight by the end of August 2007 following a roll-out ceremony on July 8, 2007, which matches the aircraft's designation, 787, in US-style month-day-year format (7/8/07). That never happened, as there were many many issues - shortage of aerospace-grade fasteners, incomplete software, labour strikes and supply chain issues.

But all's well that ends well. The Boeing 787 Dreamliner is here, definitely. It was nice to see the the Boeing 787 Dreamliner being brought into the launch function by enthusiastic Boeing employees, much like a bride being led to to the altar!

Photos on aviation spotting websites like Airliners.net and other news reports suggest that the 787 production line is now well oiled. A few Air-India Boeing 787 Dreamliners - to be designated as VT-ANA, VT-ANB, VT-ANC and VT-ANG are nearly ready and should be delivered soon. It is a different question whether Air-India would have the financial wherewithal to take their delivery. It would be tragic if the Dreamliner does not fly on Indian skies.
Then came a bombshell. This news did in a sense prove that life does come full circle. On September 28, 2011, it was announced that Kingfisher Airlines would exit its low cost business, Kingfisher Red, and instead would reposition itself as a full service carrier. When Kingfisher Airlines started operations in 2005, it was premium full service carrier, that, as many felt, relied on titillation - stewardesses chosen personally by the Chairman (that's cheesy enough), stewardesses clad in bright red short skirts - that was enough to set testosterones racing. But what started off well, leave aside the gimmickry for a moment - great food, great service on board, soon took a tumble. Air Deccan was acquired and the airline adopted a hybrid full service and low cost model, and then got caught up in economic headwinds and fuel turbulence! Things got bad - finances crippled in light of massive orders with Airbus and fuel costs, refuelling became an issue, punctuality reduced and menus shrunk (and became pathetic). I recently travelled on the full service version of Kingfisher Airlines on a morning flight. I was flabbergasted when the breakfast tray had no butter. Things had gotten so bad! But, this new announcement on recasting the business model proves that managers in India Inc. have become as tentative as those in the West.

A very seasoned senior corporate executive I have known for years now recently quoted Dominic Barton of McKinsey on Twitter - "The most striking difference between East and West is the time frame leaders consider when making decisions. Asians typically think in terms of 10 to 15 years. In US & Europe, nearsightedness is a norm."
That was true for a long time, but now, as the Kingfisher Airlines example proves, we too have started following short-termism. Perhaps, existence for the airline was the paramount consideration for cutting costs atrociously or now moving whole-hog into the full service domain. But is it not true that somewhere, the management neither had the patience or the conviction to stick to one model. Will they stick on, will they sell out? My bet is Virgin Atlantic and Sir Richard Branson which had lobbied with the Government of India for permitting investment in Indian carriers has a good chance - the head honchos are equally flamboyant, the business models would be similar. Let us wait and watch!
One airline, once known as Bloody Awful unveiled a new campaign this week that promised a return to the quality and efficiency that once existed in the aviation business. I am talking about British Airways.

The campaign is slick, impressive and to me, appears honest. But do European airlines stand a decent chance of competing with premium carriers from the Gulf or Asia is a fair question to ask.
Back home Jet Airways introduced a Boeing 737-800 with a new decor - Sky Interiors, with cove lighting and a curved cabin architecture that looks contemporary, gives a sense of openness and space. New flights connecting Bombay and Manila have been announced. I have heard the next announcement would be that of reopening the India-Shanghai-San Francisco sector. Truly they have benefited the most from the decimation of competition notably Air-India and Kingfisher Airlines. Today, this is the only full service Indian carrier that has some kind of brand loyalty to speak of.
But how long is Jet Airways to command that respect is another question. They are withdrawing certain privileges to Jet Privilege members effective October 1, 2011.
Their cabin crew, undoubtedly the better of the lot need a serious dress makeover - their yellow coats look like those of courtiers in the court of the Chinese Emperor, the pants and aprons looks funny. I have also observed a big differential in the basic courtesy extended to Business and Economy class passenger. Some Jet staff treat economy passengers like cattle. It seems they have taken Shashi Tharoor too seriously. That is not good indeed.

The carrier that impressed the most recently was Indigo. I travelled on the Bombay-Hyderabad and Hyderabad-Bhubaneshwar sectors recently. Being a low cost airline, I did not expect much from them. But from the moment I stepped into their A320, I was impressed. The cabin crew seemed to be genuinely welcoming, the cabin spic and span and smelt very fresh. To my surprise I was offered free beverages and snacks on all sectors. I needed cotton for my ears (always get blocked ears while landing), but since they did not have cotton, I was given endless supplies of water. The stewardess then noticed that I had a cold, she got me a big glass of warm water. I was impressed. I never felt like a king at Jet Airways, where I have been a frequent flier for the last 6-7 years, but I sure did at Indigo!

Another airline which impressed me recently was the no-frills Go Air. While the cabin crew had an atrocious artificial accent and looked like over painted mannequins, the flight was on the runway 5 minutes prior to departure time and landed ahead of schedule!
I also came across an interesting comment on Airliners.net - a comment posted on a picture of Air-India's yet-to-be-delivered Boeing 787 Dreamliner VT-ANC which said "Asians have all the money! India buys airliners like we buy candy. Indigo for example orders Airbuses like they grow on trees. Air India is deeply in debt though and is borrowing money from India govt to fund all these fancy new jets like 777 and 787."
That is true, especially when sees Emirates or Qatar Airways expand. Benchmarks in the airline industry will be set by Asian carriers going forward, for this is where the business is, this is where the volume is.

Are these trends in aviation headwinds or tailwinds?

BMC, Don't Kill This City!

2011-09-22T22:25:00.001+05:30

Once upon a time, there was a great city in this country where hard work was rewarded with dreams coming true. This was a city that stood out as a beacon of hope when none existed, a city that respected talent, time, honesty and capability. This was the city that got a certain glamourised aura because of these inherent characteristics.

But sadly that city is almost dead now, gasping to survive and bursting at its seams. I am talking about Bombay or Mumbai here.

Over the last two centuries the city has attracted a lot of wealth and talent to give it the character that we see today. All this was supported by a great infrastructure - great roads, efficient local trains, BEST buses, which unarguably are the best in India, efficient electricity supply.

But all that is crumbling today. I have seen that happen gradually over the 7 years that I have been here.The roads are in pathetic shape. We can only guess if the craters that miraculously appear after every downpour outnumber those on the moon or not?

This is not funny at all, especially since BMC is the richest municipal body in India. Where does the wealth of the BMC go? It certainly does not find its way to our roads, but it surely does make BMC employees rich, as the frequent newspaper and tabloid exposes suggest.

In this city, cars need servicing 4 times a year because of the state of the roads. An autorickshaw ride is a ride to hell! There was a joke doing the rounds on Twitter around 9/11 that BMC should be charged with unleashing terror on the city's roads. Another person on Twitter has become a legend for always signing off with a cuss phrase - "BMC ki MKC"!

At times BMC's incompetence or indifference assumes tragic proportions - recently the papers had a carried a story on a cop who was riding a bike, at Powai, with his pregnant wife behind him. He went over a crater, lost his balance and his fell off, only to be crushed to death by a truck that came in from behind. I cannot say more on this except that BMC is full of corrupt nincompoops.

The cab and autorickhaws which were efficient and reasonable in the past have now resorted to rampant meter tampering. At places like Bandra Kurla Complex, which is the nation's premier financial hub, it is a nightmare to hail a cab or an autorickshaw. If you are lucky indeed, you could get overcharged by about 40-50%. Recently when the local RTO launched a drive against tampering, these operators had the audacity to go on a 3-day strike. Then we had a certain politician who spoke out in favour of the operators saying that they were being targetted because they are from Bihar and are of a "certain minority community". Isn't that cheap?

If the city is to be a global city, we cannot have all this crap. We need a vision, something like what Shiela Dixit attempted for Delhi - notwithstanding the corruption following the Commonwealth Games, the city is certainly zippier than what it used to be earlier - lower pollution, efficient metro rail, new flyovers, new airport terminal and an overall beautification.

No one in charge of governance in the city has a vision of any sort that extends beyond their wallets. Everything being done here is with the sole objective of milking the city. But we must remember that you cannot milk a cow beyond a point without feeding it, if you do that you will kill the cow. That is what is happening to this city today.

வணக்கம் தூத்துக்குடி - Vannakam Thoothukudi

2011-09-13T22:44:00.003+05:30

It was time to say வணக்கம் தூத்துக்குடி - Vannakam Thoothukudi or "Hello Thoothukudi" yesterday.
Thoothukudi is a port town located nearly 590 kilometers south west of Chennai. On reaching the town, did it dawn on me that officially the much known Tuticorin is actually Thoothukudi, much like Calcutta is Kolkata, or Bombay is Mumbai!
Tuticorin, as I had read in history school books was an important trading port for the early Europeans venturing into India. The port was an important centre of trade with South East Asia in the medieval ages, before the Portuguese colonists usurped it from the Pandyan kingdom in the 1500s. Next came in the Dutch in the 1600s and finally it was the British who took control in the 1800s. The colonial influences can been today also in few churches sprinkled across the city. The town became the hotbed of Indian nationalists like the noted Tamil poet, Subramaniya Bharathi, who kept the beacon of independence alive in the area.
The sea around Thoothukudi have an enchanting, lovely bluish-green tinge. Though the coastal belt has the usual coconut palm plantations, as one goes a few kilometers inland, the stark aridness is noticeable. Since agriculture had never been of prominence in the area, trading, fishing and pearl harvesting assumed significance.
Today the city is centered around the modern Tuticorin port, which is a major centre for import of coal, wood and other commodities.
My first meal in Thoothukudi was an unforgettable experience. We North Indians have stereotyped the land beyond the Vindhyas as "Madras", every South Indian as a "Madrasi" and a South Indian meal as dosa (தோசை), vadai (வடை), idli (இட்லி) and sambhar (சாம்பார். While travelling across South India it does come as a revelation that the cuisine is much beyond, much richer that than the stereotypes.
We stopped by at a roadside restuarant, nestled in a oasis of coconut palms and greens. As expected, the buffet had an array of local delicacies. Now the South is a place where I take to vegetarianism by choice, simply because the wide array of vegetarian cuisine has a certain allure that no other cuisine does.
I started off with tamarind rice (Puliyodarai - புளியோடரை), a classic Tamil speciality, that has the killing ability to turn a chapatti-eater like me into a rice-eater. The sourness of the tamarind complemenrted the mild spiciness to give a unique flavour to the dish. Next on the menu was a spicy yam dish - yam slices were crispy fried or sauteed with spices, curry leaves and whole red chillies. String beans with coconut and mustard seeds, a classic Tamil dish is unique - lightly fried, the string beans retain their natural colour and crunchiness, but gets a distinct taste from the cocunut and mustard. Obviously, endless bowls of sambhar and rasam (ரசம்) were downed, before I could take no more. That was then the ideal time for curd rice (Thayir sadam - தயிர் சாதம்), in true Tamil style - obviously it has to be "when in Tamil Nadu, do as the Tams do!" Here the curd rice came with a traditional novelty - crispy whoile red chillies - red chillies are soaked in buttermilk, sun dried and then deep fried. The spiciness of these chillies is unique and goes very well the blandness of the curd rice! That was the grand finale to the lunch. Desset had to be skipped!
After work, we were taken on a guided tour of the port by a portly, quintessential Tamil, a local shipping agent, in his car. The guy was playing the latest bhangra hits on full blast in his car. Surely he could not understand a thing, but was swinging to the beats as he drove through the quays. He admitted he did not understand a bit, but enjoyed the music a lot. So isn't this living proof that with each passing generation, India is increasingly getting homogenised, with North Indians freaking out on South Indian food and South Indians gyrating to bhangra beats and adopting salwar kameezes as a dress of convenience?

Today, it was time to head back. We left Thoothukudi early in the morning for Madurai to catch a flight back to Chennai and onward to my base. The highway from Thoothukudi to Madurai is an impressive 4-lane highway which was smoother than any other Indian road I had experienced before, thanks to Mr. Vajpayee's highway development initiative.

A few kilometers before Madurai, we stopped by at a road side eatery for breakfast. Madurai (மதுரை) is quite unlike Thoothukudi. It's lush green. The eatery was surrounded by coconut trees on three sides. It was barely 7AM and the bright sunrays filtered through coconut leaves into the eatery, giving it quite a magical feel.

The eatery was small and there was nothing fancy about it at all, but it was splotlessly clean and smelt fresh! That is distinctive in the South - hygiene is paramount, unlike many other parts of the country. Eating out at the smallest of outlets would not make you sick - I can guarantee that.

We ordered breakfast - pongal (பொங்கல்), vadai and filter coffee. Pongal is a simple breakfast dish made of rice and moong dal, with porridge-like consistency, lightly salted with a hint of spices, served with steaming hot sambhar. The pongal was heavenly with the spicy sambhar. Next came the vadai, which was crisp on the outside, and soft on the inside - the insides quickly dissolved in my mouth - that's what defines a good vadai.

It was time to head to the Madurai airport. I first visited Madurai in Jaunary 2007. At that time, the terminal was a tiny little building - barely 4,000 square feet or so. Now there was a spankingly fresh chrome and glass terminal that stood in front - traffic had surely increased multifold to justify this. The interiors were smart, a couple of aerobridges were getting commissioned. I was told Madurai is soon going to get international traffic with flights to Singapore and Dubai! Wow! It would be so much more convenient and cheaper for people to fly in and out, bypassing hubs like Bombay and Chennai!

Chennai, the transit halt for the next four hours, was bustling with activity. But my agenda was clear. A visit or even tranit through Chennai isn't complete without a pilgrimage to Sri Krishna Sweets to pick up a box of Mysore Pak. Luckily for me, Sri Krishna Sweets has an outlet at Chennai airport. The sweet which originated in the royal kitchens of the Mysore, is a melt in the mouth, gold-hued sweet is power-packed to make you go crazy and crave for more.

For Neeti and me, Mysore Pak is best enjoyed with ginger tea after dinner. This is one sweet that has the capability to tempt Neeti into binging! We have really acted crazy to get Mysore Pak at times. This January we passed by Mysore city on the way from Coorg to Bangalore and we spent a couple of hours searching for Mysore Pak. The search made us criss-cross Mysore a couple of times like crazed maniacs!

And with the Mysore Paks bought, it was time to head back home!

From the city of Nawabs, with Biryanis!

2011-09-10T15:21:00.006+05:30

If there's one city in India that I love to visit, over and over again, that's Hyderabad.
This is one city which has shown how consistent investments in infrastructure can transform the very feel of a place.
I flew in into Hyderabad this morning. As always the city's swank new airport (it is not new anymore - opened in 2008, but it still retains its freshness) is as welcoming as ever.
The drive to the city is smooth, a good 40 kilometers were covered in less than an hour. In Bombay, such a long drive would be endless, and would be sufficient to give a normal person acute hypertension. The 18 kilometer long PV Narasimha Rao flyover is a real treat, significantly cutting down travel time. The naming of the flyover could not be better, it's such a brilliant tribute to the man of will, the architect of reforms, the man who envisioned an economically strong and resurgent India. Sadly, his invaluable. contribution has not been regarded as worthy of honour in the rest of India.
Hyderabad for long had shown India the way. Timely investments in much needed infrastructure helped Hyderabad steal a march over Bangalore, in attracting infotech talent, as Bangalore got increasingly unliveable by the mid-1990s. The hands-on Chief Minister, Chandrababu Naidu and a friendly centre headed by Mr. Vajpayee helped the city evolve this vision. I just hope the Telengana strife doesn't affect the city adversely in the long run.
After the meetings got over, it was time to head back to Hyderabad Airport, but not before picking up a few biryanis for home.
Now the biryani is the perfect example of how India has become richer with foreign influences, over centuries. The biryani is a Persian dish evolved over the ages, primarily as a convenient and nutritious dish, of rice and meat, concocted to feed armies at the end of a daylong battle.
Brought to India by medieval Persian invaders, the dish evolved into nearly 20 or so variants in Indian sub-continent. So today, you have biryanis in Calcutta, Kerala, Burma, Lucknow, Sri Lanka and many other places. But undoubtedly the best known of all these versions is the Hyderabadi biryani. The Hyderabadi biryani is moderately spiced, with barely few traces of oil, yet is an explosion of flavours. The secret of that lies in patiently cooking the meat and rice, in layers, over extended periods of time, over low heat. The flavour of the tenderising meat is absorbed by the aromatic basmati rice gradually, the seal of dough between the vessel and the lid keeps the flavours inside and intact for long, while the hot vapours from the meat cooks the dish.
The result is magical - the melange of subtle flavours that the Hyderabadi biryani has to offer is bound to spin you off into a heavenly orbit of absolute bliss.

I was first introduced to the biryani in 1988 at a joint called Biryani Story at Hauz Khas, New Delhi's Aurobindo Place shopping centre. But I never knew what a true biryani was till I had a Hyderabadi biryani which was much later in 2006!
We passed by a takeaway outlet of Paradise, a chain specialising in Hyderabadi delicacies. My wishlist was long - vegetable biryani for Neeti (that's one of her favorite dishes) and a whole lot for myself - mutton biryani, haleem and bagare baingan!
Now the Paradise takeaway was faster than McDonald's, which was impressive. But unfortunately, they did not have haleem and bagare baingan. The biryanis came along with mirchi ka salan, the look of it was not too impressive at all, afterall Neeti does an exceptionally good job with the dish at home!
Haleem is a thick broth of mince meat and cracked wheat, slow cooked in stock turning it into a sticky consistency and then tempered with onions and spices. This meaty broth is comforting on a cold winter day. Bagare baingan are fried baby aubergines cooked in a spicy-sour gravy made of coconut and groundnut.

So I had to buy just two biryanis - mutton and vegetable which I am gleefully carrying back home like well deserved treasures. I just cannot wait till evening to dig in to the heavenly biryanis, blissfully like a Hyderabadi Nawab!

Life Has An Expiry Date!!!

2011-09-09T22:30:00.008+05:30

I received this short story from a colleague today. The message - life does indeed have an expiry date, so live on fully!

In Washington DC, at a Metro Station, on a cold January morning in 2007, this man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, approximately 2,000 people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After about 3 minutes, a middle-aged man noticed that there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds, and then he hurried on to meet his schedule.
About 4 minutes later, the violinist received his first dollar. A woman threw money in the hat and without stopping, continued to walk.
At 6 minutes, a young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.
At 10 minutes, a 3-year old boy stopped, but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head the whole time. This action was repeated by several other children, but every parent - without exception forced their children to move on quickly.
At 45 minutes, the musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.
After 1 hour, he finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed and no one applauded. There was no recognition at all.
No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before, Joshua Bell sold-out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100 each to sit and listen to him play the same music.
This is a true story. Joshua Bell, playing incognito in the D.C. Metro Station, was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities.
This experiment raised several questions:

- In a common-place environment, at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty?

- If so, do we stop to appreciate it?

- Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made!
How many other things are we missing as we rush through life? Enjoy life NOW ..... it has an expiry date!

Scars of the Kalinga War!

2011-09-08T22:34:00.002+05:30

A few days back, I had visited the eastern state of Orissa. About 2000 years back, the state was known as Kalinga. It was a progressive democracy, surrounded by a sea of monarchies.
We landed at Bhubaneshwar early in the morning, at about 9 AM. As we were landing, the sea of greenery below the glide slope and till the eye could see was absolutely enthralling. The varying hues and shades of green were soothing for the soul. But the weather put me off instantly. The heat was intolerable, actually made worse by the near 100% humidity.
We then drove for work through the interior of the state for about 3 hours, or nearly 150 kilometers out of Bhubaneshwar city. We passed through areas with bright orange soil - undoubtedly the state has unparalleled mineral wealth.
Every few kilometers we passed through dense forests and occasionally paddy fields. The soil is extremely fertile. Given the amount of rainfall the area has, little wonder that lush vegetation thrives.
Typically the buzz on the highways, the visible economic activity (or the highway economy) is a barometer for the health of the economy. Alas, the highway was bereft of that buzz. And that is tragic for a state blessed with such immense wealth. As if that was not enough, the interior is plagued with abject poverty.
So then, when we have anti-industry outfits who vociferously oppose any kind of economic activity, under the guise of "protecting" the interests of locals, it is but obvious what the real game is, and what agenda is being played out.
But then over 2000 years back, this region, Kalinga, was fiercely independent, progressive and forward looking. Kalinga was a pioneering democracy, it elected its leaders. And then Ashoka's invasion happened - did it change the course of the Kalingan civilization and push them to fringes of Indian history?

Ashoka got away, he had a change of heart after the war, but it seems Orissa is still suffering from a wounded psyche! Ashoka embraced Buddha's teachings, became a messenger of peace, became "Ashoka the Great", but the Kalinga of today still shows the scars.
Perhaps this a manifestation of the duality in nature, the endless cycle - there is good and evil in every being (as was with Ashoka) and what rises must fall, and the reverse (the fall of Kalinga and a possible rise(?) of Orissa in the future).

The Bhut Jolokia Omelette

2011-09-04T14:55:00.006+05:30

Yesterday, we did our weekly ritual of stocking up our refrigerator. We were at Godrej Nature's Basket picking up vegetables when I noticed neatly stacked packets of unusually fat red chilies.
Out of curiosity, I took a closer look and I was pleasantly surprised to see those fat and weird shaped chilies were the Bhut Jolokia chillies. The chili is a native of the North East and is a critical ingredient in Naga cuisine! The Bhut Jolokia are one of the hottest chili peppers available. They had been certified as nearly 401.5 times hotter than Tabasco sauce, by the Guinness Book of World Records! I understand that the "hotness" of chilies is measured on the Scoville scale, i.e. Scoville Heat Units (SHU), which quantifies the concentration of capsaicin in the chili! Capsaicin stimulates the nerve endings in skin and mucous membranes causing a burning sensation.
While capsicums and bell peppers rank in single-digits on the Scoville scale, jalpenos and Tabasco sauce have a rating ranging between 3,500 to 8,000 SHUs. Now, "hotness" is a cultural factor. While Westerners sweat their guts out with jalpenos and Tabasco sauce, they are fairly mild for us!
The Indian standard for "hotness" is defined by Andhra cuisine which is sure to blow anyone's brains! The Guntur chilli which gives Andhra cuisine its distinctive spicy flavor is ranked at 50,000 SHUs! But the for "hotness" of the Bhut Jolokia is at a million SHUs! Now that is incredibly hot indeed!
As my quest for the exotic in food is never ending and insatiable, with a dash of excitement, I picked up the pack.
"What's that?" asked Neeti.
When I told her what was special about it, pat came a disclaimer "Be careful, if you want it! But I am certainly not having it, count me out!"
"Okay" I said with a plain face and I proceeded with the purchase.
The excitement climaxed today morning. Sunday breakfasts are usually egg breakfasts with eggs in various forms - omelettes, sunny-sides up, hard-boileds, scrambled eggs, etc.
Today, my imagination raced at the speed of light when we were deciding on what to have. I concocted the "recipe" of a Bhut Jolokia omelette. But the excitement was a bit mellowed by the thought of a million capsaicin molecules burning and tingling my taste buds. To avoid an "accident" I decided to tone it down, albeit, a bit - a block of finely chopped cheese was added to the beaten eggs - lactose is said to moderate the "hotness"!
Then it was done - the fat Jolokia was thinly chopped and thrown into the beaten eggs, with salt, ground pepper, oregano and cilantro. The mix went into the pan generously smeared with olive oil. In a few moments it was all ready.
The omelette tasted heavenly with toast and ketchup. But "hotness" came in piercing through the sweetness of the ketchup, though it was tolerable to begin with. After all the morsels of the unique omelette were downed, the real effect showed up. The tingling on the tongue intensified, my nose started running and my scalp started sweating profusely. No wonder the Defence Research Development Organisation is developing non-lethal weapons out of the Jolokia.
But the Jolokia really had me! It would be fun to try more of them, and hopefully one day in traditional Naga cuisine!

Why Walk When You Can Fly?

2011-08-26T23:39:00.001+05:30

I received this interesting story from a friend today. Thought I must share this on my blog. Here goes:

Once there was a king who received a gift of two magnificent falcons from Arabia. They were peregrine falcons, the most beautiful birds he had ever seen. He gave the precious birds to his head falconer to be trained.
Months passed and one day the head falconer informed the king that though one of the falcons was flying majestically, soaring high in the sky, the other bird had not moved from its branch since the day it had arrived.
The king summoned healers and sorcerers from all the land to tend to the falcon, but no one could make the bird fly. He presented the task to the member of his court, but the next day, the king saw through the palace window that the bird had still not moved from its perch. Having tried everything else, the king thought to himself, "May be I need someone more familiar with the countryside to understand the nature of this problem." So he cried out to his court, "Go and get a farmer."
In the morning, the king was thrilled to see the falcon soaring high above the palace gardens. He said to his court, "Bring me the doer of this miracle."
The court quickly located the farmer, who came and stood before the king.
The king asked him, "How did you make the falcon fly?"
With his head bowed, the farmer said to the king, "It was very easy, your highness. I simply cut the branch where the bird was sitting.

Ya Juley Ladakh!

2011-08-21T07:53:00.001+05:30

As I am writing this, I am feeling extremely depressed! After an awesome week in Ladakh, we are returning back to our base. Right now we are sitting in Delhi's swank new Terminal 3, waiting for our flight back to Bombay.

"Was it just last Sunday that we took that GoAir flight to Leh? Feels like just a moment back, that we took off for Leh!"

Those were the thoughts ringing in my head interspersed with the rythmic, soothing chants of "Om Mani Padme Hum - ༀམཎིཔདྨེཧཱུྃ།" and the Avalokiteshvara Mantra.

If anything defines the week that has just gone by, it has been undoubtedly a catharsis, of the mind and of the soul. The peace that I felt in the icy wilderness was unknown till now. The beauty I saw in the stark mountains, the snowy peaks, the azure blue skies, the white clouds, the gushing streams, the pristine meadows, the crystal clear waters of Pangong Tso was all too intoxicating for the soul.

We got to know a lot about Ladakh from Rinchen, Tenzin and Palges. It was a revelation that genuine hardwork and patriotism is not only alive but also very much in vogue. To see the Ladakhis actually toiling to grow enough food in the summer months to last them for the rest of the year makes our cribs, citydwellers' rants on infrastructure, traffic and everything else seem very, very, childlike and trivial. Despite all that they go through, the Ladakhis brave the odds each day with a zest that I have never seen in the city.

Little did I know that this icy wilderness had a lot of history behind. The region is so rich, rich with history of migrations, of trade and of roving monks. This region region stood at the crossroads of the booming east-west trade in the middle-ages, which gave the region its wealth. The cultural intercourse brought the Ladakhis and the Tibetans closer to the ancient Indian philosophy and language. The religious chants liberally use Sanskrit, the script is very similar to Devanagari. Little did I know that the Ladakhis, who are followers of the Tibetan variant of Buddhism, also religiously follow principles (Om Mani Padme Hum - ༀམཎིཔདྨེཧཱུྃ།) similar to those enunciated in the Gayatri Mantra (ॐ भूर्भुवस्वः) that we, Hindus, follow. It was a revelation that Guru Nanak had visited these parts and the locals revere as Nanak Lama! There is a gurudwara dedicated to him, Gurudwara Pathhar Sahib, on the outskirts of Leh, which is frequented by the local Buddhists! "How little do we know about our great country?", I wonder!

To see our brave soldiers, from all corners of our great nation patiently guarding our icy frontiers, miles away from the comfort and safety of their home is both touching and humbling. That means a lot more to me than flying the Tricolour on Republic Day or on Independence Day!

What always baffled me till now was how could a Prince give up everything and attempt to gain the 'knowledge'. But Ladakh answered the mystery that i carried with me all along. Indeed there is more to life than the worldly pleasures and that what Lord Buddha and the monks we saw in Ladakh have attempted to achieve. I can only wonder how enriched our lives would be if we tried even a fraction of what Lord Buddha has taught the world and what these monks have done!

After we return back to Bombay, before we know it, the rat race would have begun. Deprived of sound sleep, waking up will become a struggle again. Getting through the traffic will become an ordeal worse than third degree torture. As the stress levels will mount, I am sure I will wonder if all that "torture" is worth it?

We are now awaiting the boarding announcement for our flight back to Bombay. Peering out on the tarmac, I can see an array of aircraft, of various domestic airlines, which will fly passengers to different corners of our country today. Some of these places would be idyllic, exotic locales - the North East, Rajasthan, the Andamans, Khajuraho, and many more. As we, Indians, venture abroad to discover the world, should we lose sight of the gems like Ladakh and the North East, Andamans, Khajuraho etc. that we have at home?

The boarding has now been announced. Shortly, we will walk down the aerobridge to our Boeing 737-800. Watching the 737s and A320s lined up at the boarding gates is always a sight to behold. But such a sight is zilch when compared with what we saw yesterday at Leh airport, after we boarded our Kingfisher A320. Just as we boarded, we saw the formidable Indian Air Force Ilyushin IL76 "Gajraj" land against the backdrop of the mighty Himalayan snow capped peaks and the blue sky. That was a fitting goodbye to the glorious and historic land of Ladakh, a land that I have come to love so much, a gem for all of us to cherish!

Ya Juley Ladakh!

The Paradise That Is Pangong Tso!

2011-08-19T22:36:00.004+05:30

In the final leg of our tour of this icy wilderness, we left Leh city for Pangong Tso, yesterday.
The route to Pangong Tso goes through the Changla Pass, which is at an altitude of 17,586 feet. The Changla Pass was as snowy as Khardung La, but as we had acclimatized by then, we were a lot more comfortable at the Pass!

As we descended from Changla Pass, the environs gradually turned from drab to absolute pristine with each passing mile.

As we were approaching the forward area, we passed by a number of military bases, some small, some big. These establishments are some what like mini-cities of sorts, sustaining the local economy. Each garrison has a uniform shop, a grocery supplies shop, a phone booth, tea stalls, and many more providing employment to locals. No wonder, the armed forces form a significant contributor to the Ladakhi economy, besides tourism.

These army establishments are showing the way to environmental consciousness by using solar and wind energy for use during the day. The garrisons have installed quite a few solar panels and windmills.

We passed by the Tangtse Garrison, which had a practice range named after Major Shaitan Singh, a Param Vir Chakra awardee and martyr of the 1962 war with China. Major Singh had single-handedly and successful defended the Chushul sector, at over 14,000 feet against the invading Chinese. His exploits were proudly mentioned at Leh's Hall of Fame, lest we forget!

We also passed by Durbuk Garrison, which had a firing range named after General Zorawar Singh, a pioneering military campaigner who brought large parts of Ladakh under the Kingdom of Kashmir in the 1800s!

At Durbuk Garrison, we came across an Indian Air Force helicopter, a Mil Mi8, which was being loaded with supplies, presumably for some forward posts.

After crossing Tangste, we entered Changtang bioreserve. Changtang has a few pristine and verdent pastures with gushing streams running through. We came across herds of sheep, mountain goat, bovines and yak grazing around.

At one particularly picturesque pasture we stopped at, there was a teenage girl tending to her grazing sheep and goats. On seeing us watch the grazing animals with curiosity, she brought a goat calf for us to hold in our arms. I am told that it had velvety, soft and smooth hair. After a while, the little thing got a bit restless and when Neeti was holding her gingerly, the restless creature jumped from her arms and made a dash to the rest of the flock. It all happened in a split second, and the incident left us a wee bit shocked. The cute Ladakhi girl went all giggles and reassured us that nothing was amiss!

Another interesting sight was that of a marmot, a large ground squirrel coming out of its burrow, when it got the aroma of Parle G biscuit!

Relieved we proceed to our car, where Palges was anxiously waiting for us. I suppose he was a bit hungry or he wanted a pee-break. We were pleasantly surprised to experience that Ladakhis have a very keen civic sense. Leh city was spic and span, there was no garbage littered around. We never saw anyone peeing outdoors. Shops in the city also do not give plastic bags to shoppers to prevent contamination.

After sometime, beyond Lukung, we encountered a painfully bad patch of road, the worst (or rather the first bad road) we had encountered in our travails across Ladakh. (Roads in Ladakh are maintained extremely well by the Border Roads Organisation, which ensures that the frontiers are accessible all throughout the year to the armed forces!)

As we gained altitude, the mountains revealed how they have been weathered by the elements, the wind and rain. Some of the mountain-sides showed some very interesting patterns.

The anticipation of reaching Pangong Tso was a kind of analgesic, relieving us from the pain. Then it appeared - a signboard said "The first view of Pangong Lake". Truly that was a sight to behold - a shimmering pristine body of blue water a few kilometers away.

Pangong Tso is a 150 kilometer long salt-water - nearly 120 kilometers of the lake lies beyond the Line of Actual Control and is illegally occupied by China, ever since the 1962 war. The Indian Army maintains a constant vigil over the lake. In fact, Pangong Tso was opened to tourism only a few years back. Till then this was an area out of bounds for civilians.

The lake is surrounded by snow-clad mountains on all sides. Given the usually clear weather in these parts, the lake can be seen in magical colours depending on the time of the day.

After a short drive, we reached the shores of the highlight of the trip - Pangong Tso. Honestly I had never seen anything prettier than the lake before.

Despite the brightness of the sun, the air was rather cold. But we dared the elements and spent the rest of the afternoon by shores of the lake, peering into the crystal clear waters and the lofty mountains and imagining we were in Heaven, a rare feeling of true bliss, a feeling of oneness with the Almighty.

By evening, the clouds reappeared and we missed the riot of colour the riot of colour that Pangong Tso has to offer.

Before settling into our tent for the night, we walked along the campsite gazing at the stars. This was the first occasion in nearly 25 years that I could distinctly see the Milky Way!

Temperatures at night were sub-zero, but our tent was pretty cozy, though without heating arrangements.

Today morning it was time to head back to Leh city. Before leaving Pangong Tso, we stopped by at that long sandy strip where the closing scene of the Bollywood blockbuster, 3 Idiots, was shot. The panoramic views from this strip were postcard perfect! Looking into our territory illegally occupied by the Chinese, I could only speculate how beautiful the other side would be! And when would we reclaim that territory from the Chinese?

Leaving this paradise was heavy on our hearts, but leave we had to!

On the way back, we took the same route - Lukung, Chantang, Tangste, Durbuk, Changla, Tsoltak, Karu and Thiksey. At Changla, we had our snack - Maggi and bread-omelette, the latter was the best I ever had!

The journey to Leh was otherwise pretty uneventful, perhaps because this was the last day of our vacation and we were dreading the mindless grind that lies ahead in Bombay! But we were kept entertained by witty (or rather saucy) one-liners that the Border Roads Organisation had put up on the highway to caution the drivers to take care. One said "Lower your gear, the curve is near" while another was more overt "Be soft on my curves!" But I wonder if Palges or other drivers really get the embedded wit.

It was nearly 3PM when we reached Leh. Just as I would normally do, I insisted on visiting the famous Pumpernickel German Bakery in the main market of Leh city. The eatery finds a mention in most guidebooks and travel shows. We ordered lasagnas and pastas alongwith tea. The food hardly tasted Italian and was rather cold. I had to get my tomato and olive lasagna reheated. Then when the bill came, to my horror, I found we had been overcharged for the tea. In short, we regretted visiting the Pumpernickel German Bakery, any other place would have been better, by most standards.

After a round of the Tibetan markets, where we picked up a few curios, we retired to the hotel for our last night at Leh.

And the thought lingering on in my mind was that it would be back to the hopeless and mindless grind of the metropolis.

From the Cradle of the Silk Route

2011-08-17T22:22:00.013+05:30

After reaching the Nubra Valley last evening, we went to check out the sulphur springs at Panamik. The road to Panamik snaked along the Shyok River and through quaint villages and fields.

These villages are like oases in this cold desert. I imagine they must have provided a lot of succor to caravans, criss-crossing the continent, in the days of the Silk Route!

The weather played truant and the sun was about to set, so we skipped Panamik Lake and headed back to our pit stop for the night, a tented camp at Sumur, amidst fields of vegetables, marigolds and sunflowers.

This morning we headed to Hundar, home to the Bactrian camels, a legacy of the Silk Route, when caravans used these beasts to transport silk, spices, gunpowder and other wares. Little seems to have changed in these parts, except for a few army convoys or tourist taxis passing.

The Nubra Valley is of strategic importance to the Indian armed forces. Nubra is the gateway to the Siachen Glacier, the world's highest warfield. Because of this one needs special permits to visit the Valley.

We came across an Indian Army convoy which had stopped in a meadow. The soldiers, numbering about 50 or so, some were resting but most were on their mobile phones. Presumably they were headed to Siachen and this was probably a good place to catch up with families while the signals were still strong. This is true sacrifice, the Indian Army soldiers leave their homes, their loved ones, everything behind just to guard us on these icy frontiers. I doff my hat to these brave men in uniform.

The next stop was at Diksit Gompa monastery, an ancient seat of Tibetan Buddhism since ancient times. Located in a sea of Stupas, the Gompa itself is quite nondescript. Stupas are small shrines containing relics and are believed to have protective powers - shield travelers from accidents, prevent rivers from flooding.

After steep breathless climb, we reached the monastery. It was a peaceful 10 minutes there, turning the prayer wheels and bowing before the Lord Buddha! We got ourselves photographed with monks - little boys and toothless aging monks!

The view from the Gompa was stunning with the 5-storey high Maitreya Buddha, overlooking the Nubra Valley, blessing the valley with fertility and prosperity.

As we started back for Leh from this cradle of the Silk Route, I could only wonder how many secrets from the past that this Valley holds!

ༀམཎིཔདྨེཧཱུྃ། - Om Mani Padme Hum!

2011-08-16T16:31:00.005+05:30

After successfully acclimatising in Leh, for nearly 2 days, it was time to head to Khardung La Pass and beyond to Nubra Valley.
Leh city itself is at 11,000 ft, but Khardung La is at 18,000 ft, with even more rarefied air than Leh, with lower oxygen levels. Risk averse as we are, we decided to pick up one canister of oxygen, for nearly Rs. 350, just in case!
And then we left Leh with a prayer on our lips that we be fortunate enough to be able to get there, as Leh had been facing inclement weather for the last few days. We had heard that it had snowed quite a bit at Khardung La and the Pass had been closed for some time.
But the good Lord Buddha answered our prayers. Leh got its first sunshine in days today. The sun seemed to be coming out just for us! So we proceeded towards Khardung La!
The road from Leh to Khardung La winds along the lofty Himalayan range which offers some breathtaking sights of snow covered peaks, green valleys, everchanging cloud cover and the bluest of skies I had ever seen!
Beyond the Khardung La Pass lies the Karakorum range of mountains that stretches from Tibet to Afghanistan.
Fortunately for us, the journey was not as dreadful as many spoke about. The lack of oxygen did not hit us hard.
In a few hours after a bone wracking ride, we touched the snow covered slopes. The air turned cold, we had to close the windows of the car.
And then we reached Khardung La at about noon! The sides of the road were covered with snow. We stopped for a while and we spent some time taking photographs. Our pit stop was the canteen, where we had steaming Maggi noodles and black Ladakhi tea, its said to be the tradition have Maggi at 18,380 feet!

The soothing Ladakhi prayer chant "Om Mani Padme Hum", true music for the soul, gave me a feeling of being closer to the Heavens and the Almighty! This song is mesmerising, even though long, the chant goes on like a soothing stream! One just has to close his eyes and let go.
Where else in the world could one drive upto 18,380 ft, have a Maggi in an Army canteen and feel close to God, amidst chants of "Om Mani Padme Hum"!

Juley Ladakh!

2011-08-15T22:47:00.018+05:30

It's time to say Juley Ladakh! Hello Ladakh!

After passing whole day yesterday acclimatising, we dared venturing out today.

We started in the morning and headed straight to the Hemis Gompa monastery, which is about 40 kilometers from Leh city. The monastery was built in the 1600s by the Ladakhi king, Sengge Namgyal.

Our guide, Tenzing, kept us well entertained all through the way with a lovely collection of songs from Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara and other Bollywood movies. Our driver, Palges, ensured that we had a safe drive!

Tenzing told us that he was named by the Dalai Lama himself. Now the Dalai Lama's real name is Tenzin Gyatso, and our Tenzing claimed that Dalai Lama often names babies after himself!

The route to Hemis Gompa snaked along the Indus, which barely looks like a river. That's the river that gave our nation its name. This is the river along which we once had a mighty civilization, the Indus Valley Civilization, some 3000 years back!

The road, maintained by the armed forces, passed by a number of military establishments, Karu Garrison and many others. These brave men who guard the frontiers of our nation do deserve honors for putting up with adverse conditions to ensure we stay safe.

Tenzing mentioned that the Ladakhi economy is sustained by tourism and the armed forces.While tourism is a seasonal phenomenon, much like agriculture there, the armed forces sustain the local economy in winter.

The Hemis Gompa monastery, the oldest in the region, was quite impressive. Built nearly 600 years back, the monastery is home to the Drukpa sect of Mahayana Buddhism. Nestled between mountains, carved up by the elements, the monastery is surrounded by quaint little stupas.

We started back for the Thiksey monastery and stopped by for lunch at a place called Chamba Kitchen. As always I opted for local fare. This was an earthy warm vegetable broth called Chutagi Thukpa. Chutagis are steamed dough, shaped like wontons. The Chutagi Thukpa was instantly and immensely comforting and pleasurable!

The next stop was the Stok Palace of the Namgyal dynasty of Ladakh, which had ruled this cold desert for over 500 years.

Stok Palace lies across the Indus. The approach to the Palace passes through patches of green. A unique thing in Ladakh is that the mountains and hills are starkly barren, the valleys are green and fertile! They grow wheat, barley, sunflowers, vegetables and fodder for cattle. The Ladakhis raise cattle, asses and sheep. They need to toil for six months to grow enough food and fodder to get them through the winter.

The Stok Palace contained relics of the Namgyal dynasty. The Palace had a small shrine dedicated to the Drukpa sect and the Dalai Lama. And much to our amusement, our guide, Tenzing, took time to catch up with the caretakers of Stok, pretty Ladakhi girls, attired regally in purple.

It was nice to know from Tenzing that the Ladakhis migrated from Mongolia long, long back. Proximity to Tibet, when the Silk Route was booming centuries ago, aligned the Ladakhis culturally with Tibetans. The result is that the Ladakhis today use the Tibetan script, use Ladakhi, a dialect of Tibetan, as their language and revere the Dalai Lama as much as the Tibetans do.

The next stop was the Hall of Fame. At the edge of the Leh air force station's runway, lies this little tribute to the nameless soldier of the Indian armed forces who stood guard and killed and died for the Indian nation. It was interesting to read about Zorawar Singh's expeditions into Baltistan and Tibet in the 1800s.

But it was surreal and poignant to read about the accounts of the martyrs of various wars in this region, especially the letter of Captain Vijayant Thapar to his family moments before he died.

The captured Pakistani arms on display spoke a story of our valour. The section on the Siachen battlefield, the highest warzone in the world at 20,000 feet, showed the struggle our men in uniform face day in and day out.

But the best part was standing besides the unfurled Tricolour in the drizzle, watching the clouds move past the mountains, saluting our flag on our Independence Day. Undoubtedly this was the best Independence Day I ever had, that too on the roof of India!

Juley Ladakh!

A New Day Dawns!

2011-08-14T16:04:00.009+05:30

After months of meticulous planning, the D-Day finally arrived!

We woke up early for our early morning departure to Leh, Ladakh. We boarded the Jet Airways Boeing 737, at Delhi's swanky new terminal T3, as scheduled at about 6.30AM and were airborne in no time.

We flew in the northerly direction, overflying my hometown, Yamuna Nagar, Simla, Rohtang Pass and Zanskar Valley. There were dense white clouds below us, but weather was expected to clear up in Leh, as it is expected to be at this time of the year.

Very soon the Route Display on the IFE showed we were over Leh. The expectation in our minds, and hearts, had built up a great deal. The Captain, Vishal Sharma, made an announcement that things in Leh had taken a turn for the worse, weather-wise. Since a visual approach for Leh airport is required, landing in adverse weather would not be advisable. Leh being a high altitude airport, pilots prefer to go visual in their approach. The Captain chose to turn back to Delhi and wait for a while, till weather in Leh cleared up.

We were crestfallen, what happens to the break that we had been planning for long now?

We landed in Delhi, and after a while in the aircraft it was announced that the flight stood cancelled. We had by then booked an alternate flight, with GoAir, thanks to the mobile enabled site of Makemytrip.com.

We got off and then there was a struggle with arrogant staff, to get the fare refund, on Jet Airways. That struggle lasted about 2 hours(!) and they call themselves the best airline in India(?). What's odd is that Kingfisher landed in Leh after the ETA of Jet Airways. Couldn't Captain Vishal Sharma divert the flight to Srinagar or Jammu instead of Delhi? That would have bought us some time.

So headed back home, feeling pooped, kind of jet lagged.

The next morning we had to wake up pretty early at 2AM to reach the airport at 3AM - the check-in time had been increased to 2 hours as there was enhanced security because of the Independence Day celebrations coming up.

At the airport, we met quite a few passengers from yesterday's Jet Airways who chose not to take up their offer for a special flight at 930AM today. There was an absolute trust deficit amongst passengers because of the way Jet had behaved yesterday.

GoAir's flight was pretty uneventful to begin with. Their head steward had an irritating accent, while the stewardess looked like well painted mannequin!

But the redemption for all the stress of yesterday came faster than I expected. A new day was dawning! The rising sun in the east was a sight to behold (we had chosen seats specifically for this view). In some time the mighty snow capped Himalayas became visible with the thinning cloud cover. An amazing sight, the mighty peaks left us nothing but mesmerized. Words cannot describe that feeling, such surely that was the sweetest redemption, that came with the dawning of the new day!

Heaven On Earth!

2011-08-06T16:39:00.019+05:30

If I talk of food, there is always one city in this country that I absolutely adore. That city is Calcutta - I prefer this way of calling the city to the politically inspired Kolkata.
Whatever way one reaches the city of Calcutta (or Kolkata, as it is called now), by air or by train, the two things that hit you are the stench and the sweaty humidity that is ever present. And after one makes through a cacophony of "Ami", "Cholbe?", "Hobe Na!", "Tumi" to taxi stand, the grime and filth of the rickety yellow taxis of the city hits next, real hard. "God! Where have I reached?"
But if you are sure that life always has good things in store for you after the bad, then Calcutta does not disappoint at all, especially with all its gastronomical delights.
I had the good fortune of visiting Calcutta on four occasions, of which two were for weddings. Truly there isn't a better way of exploring the authentic delights that a region has to offer than to visit a wedding. The weddings I attended in Calcutta were for extended periods of time, covering pre and post marriage celebrations and that was a real, real treat.
It was a real revelation that no matter how innocuous or bland the Bengali treats look, they can be real fiery! As a perfect carnivore, I fell for the various fish starters on offer - the fried hilsa, and rohu swept me off my feet, like no Bengali belle ever could. The mild-sweetness of the fish was complemented by the intense sharpness of mustard! The dishes that followed were matched to perfection - machher jhol, shukto, aloo-poshtos along with other bhajas, etc. To end it all, rossogollas and sondesh, and yes you cannot help it, a few loud belches too!
But Bengali delights are not the only treats Calcutta has on offer for the foodie. In the yesteryears the city of Calcutta was a true melting pot. The British had made the city their capital, the administrative capital of India. The city beckoned wealth with its trade in jute, muslin, cotton and other commodities. And with this wealth, the city assumed the status of a coveted port city, which brought the city a good deal of migrants. The Armenians, made the city their home. The Baghdadi Jews came in, after persecution back home. Impoverished Chinese in came after battling famine at home. Parsis and Marwaris came to the city when the Opium Trade flourished in the 1800s. With these new cultures came in diverse cuisines, remnants of which can still be found in the once glamorous city of Calcutta.
As you walk past the heritage structures of Park Street, one can only wonder, in sadness how rapidly the grandeur can evaporate. But places like Flury's and Moulin Rouge still stand firm as vestiges of the bygone era. These were popularised in the Bollywood movie, Parineeta!
Flury's still carries with the amazing charm of English delights and a wondrous variety of teas. My first meal at the Flury's was a tuna sandwich with a cup of golden nectar, Darjeeling tea. Now that is an absolute heaven on earth on a cool, relaxed Calcuttan winter morning. Flury's charm floored me completely, or rather absolutely. On same trip, we took out an hour to have dinner at Flury's. I ordered a grilled breast of chicken with salads and mashed potatoes. The subtle salads went well with the smokiness of the chicken, but the live jazz performance was amazingly out of this world. But the next morning, rather early, was the flight back to Bombay.

I had to promise myself that I be back at Flury's for more, more food and more music to feed my soul. And I hope Flury's lives on, at least till the time I get back to Calcutta again.
The Chinese who came to Calcutta, made the city their home and gave India its first and only Chinatown at Tangra. They blended their flavours with the Indian ones to concoct a wondrous of Indian version of Chinese. I recall pigging out at a fancy Chinese place (I cannot recollect the name now) on Park Street - that was an amazing meal with a steaming, subtly flavoured fried rice, having just about a hint of flavour with peppery chicken gravy.
But then there is more to explore in the city. I first read about this place in the early 2000s, in an online article on the Jewish heritage of India. Nahoum's, a bakery located inside the crumbling heritage structure (with the clock tower), on Lindsay Street, New Market, was founded by an immigrant Baghdadi Jews, Nahoum Israel Mordecai, in 1902. The bakery offered an array of Middle Eastern pastries, like the Backlava and unleavened breads that the Jews have on Sabbath. But those days, the city was far more cosmopolitan than we can imagine today. Nahoum's diversified its menu to include English pastries and savouries as well. But things change, eras end. Change came to Nahoum's too - I am told that the bakery has been sold to a Bengali sometime back. My visit to Nahoum's was a pilgrimage of sorts to the Mecca of desserts and I had to, I just had to buy Backlava.

Our trip to Calcutta was not complete without a visit to the KC Das outlet at the Esplanade. The chain was founded by Krishna Chandra Das, in the 1930s. Krishna Chandra Das's father, Nobin Chandra Das got into the business in 1866 and is said to have concocted rossogollas and sondesh, that are much enjoyed till this date. That is certainly not surprising considering the Bengalis' addiction for all things sweet, pun intended!

On the streetfood front, while the Bengali versions of chaats, particularly their versions of gol-gappas, which are called puchkas are nothing much to talk about. But the kathi rolls are simply out of the world. Made with parathas, coated with egg and wrapped around juicy chunks of chicken, fish or vegetable kebabs, and sprinkled liberally with chopped onions, green chillies, spices and mint-coriander chutneys, this spicy concoction, is essentially a quick bite on the go, an essential comfort food infinitely delighting the tastebuds. Living in Bombay, I am fortunate to enjoy this spicy treat at the Hangla's Lokhandwala every few weeks, and that takes me back instantly to the treats that Calcutta has on offer.

For Bengalis and Calcuttans in particular, food is not sustenance, it is a pleasure, to be enjoyed, to be savoured, every moment of one's life. Truly, in a sense, when it comes to food, Calcutta is the Paris of India.

In all, Calcutta is certainly the place I would never like to live in, if I could, and did have a choice, I would have every meal of my life, from now on, in Calcutta! For the epicure, Calcutta is indeed, Heaven on Earth!

Coffee & Cups

2011-07-31T09:25:00.003+05:30

This story was sent to me by Neeti - it has a very special message for all of us and I thought of sharing this on my blog. Here goes:

A group of alumni, highly established in their careers, got together to visit their old university professor. Conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in work and life. Offering his guests coffee, the professor went to the kitchen and returned with a large pot of coffee and an assortment of cups porcelain, plastic, glass, crystal, some plain looking, some expensive, some exquisite - telling them to help themselves to hot coffee.
When all the students had a cup of coffee in hand, the professor said: "If you noticed, all the nice looking expensive cups were taken up, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones. While it is but normal for you to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and stress. What all of you really wanted was coffee, not the cup, but you consciously went for the best cups and were eyeing each other's cups.
Now if life is coffee, then the jobs, money and position in society are the cups. They are just tools to hold and contain Life, but the quality of Life doesn't change. Some times, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the coffee in it."
Don't let the cups drive you...
Enjoy the coffee instead.

Long Live The Maharaja, The Maharaja Is Dead!

2011-07-30T08:26:00.011+05:30

If anyone would ask a person from the generation of the 1970s or the 1980s, they would recall a few brands like Air-India being truly iconic. But it is really sad how these iconic brands can die, Air-India stands testimony to that!

In the 1980s, the airline was truly a symbol of India's pride. Being a pseudo-socialist state in the outer orbit of the Soviet system, India as a country had little to project to the world.

But Air-India took India to the world, with its unique mascot, the Maharaja, with its trademark tongue-in-cheek adlines. The airline had a young fleet, straddling the world from the Pacific and North America to an extensive network in Europe and Africa. Traditional Indian motifs in the cabin, its classic livery, exceptional customer service made the airline a real treat.

As kid, Air-India was special - it always fascinated me for its lovely livery, its Jumbos and the toys they used to give kids on-board.

The airline was a pioneer of sorts - it was the first all-jet airline, with the induction of Boeing 707s in the late 1950s, the first Asian airline to cross the Atlantic to being one of the first Asian airlines to have Boeing 747s.
I can say for sure that the airline was always preferred for its customer service. Fact is that my folks always preferred Air-India when they actually did have the choice of other carriers.
But Air-India's fall from its lofty, prestigious position has been tragic to say the least.
And news (or say some may say rumours) has been sneaking in that Air-India's long overdue induction in to the Star Alliance may not happen at all. The deadline expires tomorrow, July 31, 2011. (The induction into the Star Alliance would have been a major plus for Air-India - branding abroad, seat-sharing, seamless connectivity, etc.
Even more depressing was the news yesterday that employees were not paid for months and are being forced to liquidate their assets to survive. Mr. JRD Tata, the airline's father, must be turning in his grave.
If one looks at Air-India, it has always been at the mercy of the Indian government. Government policies have dictated that the airline provide services for ferrying VIPs, by taking them off their scheduled services (and not getting paid for these VIP operations!).

The government had forced the airline to get into subsidised flights for Islamic pilgrimages to Saudi Arabia. The airline also had to evacuate Indian citizens from warzones in the Gulf, a feat for which it holds a Guinness World Record.

While the airline was implementing the government's agenda, it barely had any autonomy to operate flights on commercial considerations.

The airline had been seeking permissions to fly to Melbourne, Australia (primarily business and visiting friend and relative traffic) which was not forthcoming. However, Qantas flies full from Bombay to Australia three times a week. What was the logic in denying the rights to fly to Melbourne?

The Bombay-Dubai route is a heavy load route. Now Air-India operates only two Airbus A321 flights a day on this sector, the aircraft seats just about 170 passengers. But on the other hand Emirates operates 5 flights a day on the same sector with Airbus A330s and Boeing 777s - both have a capacity of about 300 seats each. That makes the Emirates inventory on the route about 1500 as against Air-India's 340 odd. Even Jet Airways has 3 daily seats on this sector - a total inventory of about 450 seats. Clearly Emirates is milking the market, but Air-India cannot operate any more flights. Does anyone ask why?

Other routes tell the same story. Air-India pioneered the Bombay - Johannesburg route in the mid-1990s. By the end of the 1990s they exited citing commercial reasons - poor load factors or what ever. But now, South African Airways and Jet Airways flourish on this route - Jet has daily flights while South African flies 4 times a week, both have decent load factors. The same story holds true for the Bombay - Tel Aviv route, where Air-India withdrew completely but El-Al flies full, thrice a week on the same route. Air-India pulled out of the Bombay-Nairobi route recently, but Kenya Airways flies daily on this route.

Now Nairobi, like Johannesburg and Addis Ababa is a gateway to Africa, which has a large Indian expatriate community as well a diaspora. There has to be a good traffic, that's logic, that can be seen at Bombay's airport, but that is something that Air-India fails to see or is unable to do anything about.

Business - technology and defence and tourism between India and Israel is booming. So why can Air-India not fly to Tel-Aviv. Has anyone asked why Air-India cannot fly to San Francisco (IT traffic) or Turkey / Switzerland / Mauritius (tourists) or Antwerp (diamond trade)? I don't think so.

The business opportunity is there (India being a growing market, increasing globalisation, etc.), but is ignored, while other airlines make money.

That is evident when Air-India's marketshare of outbound traffic slipped to a lowly 4th or 5th position.

Then they say Air-India is not profitable, cannot make money and therefore should not expand. Today there are question marks on the Boeing 787 deal - are the aircraft really required?

How can you run an airline without a new fleet and without a motivated staff? You cannot.

Well if you ask me, the airline, which has a magnificent brand, is being killed. Not only is it allowed to operate on profitable routes, but rights on those routes are ceded to other carriers. Then, the airline is not allowed to renew its fleet - in today's market, a newer fleet gives an airline efficiencies as well as a chance to offer the passenger a better experience.

And the last nail in the coffin would be the denial of entry into Star Alliance - most likely Jet Airways will take Air-India's place there.

If anyone has to be blamed, it is the government for letting a national identity wither away. Long live the Maharaja, the Maharaja is dead!

The Femme Fatale Came Calling!

2011-07-29T23:24:00.004+05:30

"A femme fatale is a mysterious and seductive woman whose charms ensnare her lovers in bonds of irresistible desire, often leading them into compromising, dangerous, and deadly situations.....an archetype of literature and art. Her ability to entrance and hypnotize her victim with a spell .... seen as being literally supernatural...having a power akin to an enchantress, vampire, witch, or demon.....phrase is French for "deadly woman"..... tries to achieve her hidden purpose by using feminine wiles such as beauty, charm, and sexual allure."

(Source: Wikipedia)

Just as we in Bombay were kind of coming to terms with the volley of attacks orchestrated by our ridiculous neighbour, the Femme Fetale, Hina Rabbani Khar, came calling on India.

Now that is quite hard sounding name for a particularly svelte lady. The name rather sounds like a battery of nuclear tipped missiles imported by Pakistan from North Korea, clandestinely, and passed off as their own.

But quite frankly, the Rabbani lady was quite a missile that the Pakistani government had unleashed upon India! And it worked - the naive Indian media was simply swooning over her, her looks, her locks, her pearls, her shades, her Birkins and what not - I would not tread any further on that!

We forgot, simply forgot, about our blood that these bloodsuckers had sucked over the years and more recently two weeks back! We forgot about our vows to put to justice, the perpetrators of terror that Rabbani Khar's country shelters!

It is indeed ironic that a country which goes about begging for sustenance has a foreign minister who shamelessly carries around Hermès Birkins of over USD 10,000 and pays just 7000 units of taxes in the worthless Pakistani currency.

But what does that Khar lady seek to achieve in India? Get our geriatrics go weak in their pants, while thousands of Mukhtar Mais are gangraped in her own country?

Principally there is no point in talking to Pakistan, more so when we have such pathetic distractions for our media!

I quite liked the idea that someone on Twitter had - the only way to counter the Khar lady is to have Emran Hashmi as our foreign minister! (Emran is the serial kisser of Bollywood!)

But I have even more interesting scenarios - keep guessing what wold happen if Hina were to visit Berlosconi's Italy? Or for that matter meet Bill Clinton in a blue dress, just like Monica Lewinsky! Wonder how her countrymen would react to all this? How many fatwas would she unleash?

But for now, its "Mission Accomplished" in India, in classic Femme Fatale style! We have coolly forgotten about all this pain this blood sucking mosquito of a country has inflicted upon us and have been distracted by her! Such a stupor can be fatal for us!

In Praise Of The Humble Khichdi!

2011-07-24T21:11:00.008+05:30

Sometimes simple things in life give you a lot of pleasure.

After a full two days of binging on spicy or heavy or meaty meals (English breakfasts included), typically Sunday evenings are earmarked for savoring simple delights.

As Sunday evenings approach, the binge of the last two days makes me crave for a simple delight, a comfort food that gives instant joy. Khichdi is one of such Sunday evening delights that I can relish even on a regular basis if it's made well.

Traditionally Khichdi is made of yellow skinned, split Moong Dal and rice dish cooked to heavenly perfection in a mushy consistency. Because of its lightness, in North India, Khichdi is considered to be an ideal wholesome meal for convalescing patients.

Even though I am technically "not unwell", Khichdi helps me recover from the excesses and get ready for the week ahead!

Having a nice warm mushy Khichdi is as delightful as having the best of meals anywhere. The ideal Khichdi, for me, is the one cooked with yellow Moong and pink Masoor dal, alongwith chopped tomatoes and them tempered with hing (asafoetida), jeera (cumin seeds), whole red chillies and coriander and red chilly powder. The meal is complemented with a dish of aloo sabzi - potatoes stir fried in sarson (mustard seeds), mango pickle and a bowl of curd. That brings the weekend to a satisfying end!

Khichdi is especially enjoyable on days when its cool and when its raining - the weather somehow brings out the aromas and taste making it even more satisfying to the senses, the mind and the soul.

Khichdi is such a versatile food that can be modified in many many ways. I recall visiting a tiny little eatery in one of the narrow alleyways of Girgaum in Bombay, called Khichdi Samrat, with my friend, Abodh, and my sister Neelima, way back in 2005. Khichdi Samrat caters to the Gujarati bens and bhais of the area. There were an amazing 70-80 varieties of Khichdis on the menu, some with vegetables, and wide array of lentils.

And that was the turning point. We carried back those very ideas from Khichdi Samrat to our little kitchen for our Sunday evenings. Our innovations married Khichdis to vegetables - the favorites being the ones with whole moong dal and spinach or fenugreek (Methi). That was a roaring success, as Neeti became an instant convert to Khichdism immediately after our marriage.

I can go on and on with my paens in praise of the humble Khichdis, but right now, I must end, because the intoxicating aroma of the humble Khichdi is in the air and I can't resist anymore!

Is that right, Mr. Tata?

2011-07-23T15:19:00.011+05:30

The Retail Association of India (RAI) had recently come out with a notification to implement the Indian Government's initiative to curb the usage of plastic bags in retail. These changes were rolled out in the megapolis of Bombay this week. Buyers are now required pay Rs. 3 to Rs. 7 for taking plastic bags from stores in the city.

Yesterday I happened to visit the Croma store at Juhu knowing fully well that Croma had been handing out eco-friendly paper bags. So I decided not to carry bags alongwith me - yes, I would not be charged for paper bags - the Government notification being implemented by RAI is only for paper bags not the plastic ones.

Now Croma has an impressive lineage - it has been promoted by the much loved and revered House of Tatas - an Indian business group that is well known for its ethics and a principled approach to business. For years I had always looked up to the House, and Mr. Ratan Tata, their Chairman, in awe and admiration for their innate capability to stand up for what is right and what should be.

I was searching for some add-ons for my computer at the store. I picked up some stuff, the bill ran into a respectable amount - a couple of thousands.

I got into the queue. There was a couple ahead of me who had picked up a laptop and some accessories. Their bill was about Rs. 20,000. The cashier refused to give them a paper bag, instead asked them for a charge of Rs. 7 for a paper bag. This led to an argument between the cashier and the couple - don't the people who spend a decent amount of money have a right to an eco-friendly paper bag to respectably carry their stuff? I butted in in support of the couple to no avail. The couple relented and agreed to take their stuff without carry bags. In the course of the argument, the cashier did mention that there had been at least 20 irate customers who lodged complaints with the store manager, Mr. DJ (I am using the manager's initials to protect his identity) during the course of the day.

When my turn came, I demanded to meet Mr. DJ. My logic was that plastic bags were to be charged not paper bags. Croma had anyways been giving paper bags for over 2 years now and there was no reason to charge for that. The RAI notification prominently displayed at the store did mention that plastic bags were to be charged. If do spend a couple of thousands, I would not mind spending Rs. 7 on a plastic bag, but Rs. 7 for a platic bag is a rip-off and is in contravention of the norms.

After a while, Mr. DJ came to the counter. He looked reasonable and educated, but was utterly disappointed on how he had interpreted the RAI notification. Mr. DJ was stubborn to the point that he even refused to see the logic and spirit of the RAI notification.

I would like to ask Mr. Ratan Tata whether Croma is looking to juice out profitability from the sale of "paper bags" when actually they are going against the letter and spirit of the RAI initiative on plastic. In case it is Mr. DJ's narrow interpretation, I am prepared to accept the argument, however, if that's the Tata management's call, then God save them. And I will be genuinely concerned as a long-standing admirer of the House, and, as a shareholder as well!

In all, this was a lousy experience at Croma, Juhu!

The Dreamliner Comes Calling!

2011-07-16T15:04:00.008+05:30

Hey, I am not talking about our car, which we had nicknamed the Dreamliner!

I am talking about Boeing's new airliner, the 787 Dreamliner, which is touted to be the world's first major airliner to use composite materials for most of its construction.

The Dreamliner came calling here in India at New Delhi's T3, in the colours of ANA - All Nippon Airways, which is supposed to be the launch customer of the 787. The moment we all waited for was here - the Dreamliner was welcomed by the classic water cannon shower, a tradition which is religiously followed in commercial aviation!

The Dreamliner represents the newer philosophy in air travel that bigger is not necessarily better. Dwindling orders for the ultra large long haul carriers forced Boeing to look at newer cost efficient fuselages. The airline business suffered a setback after the New York attacks of September 2001, which further reduced the appetite for large capacity aircraft and airlines the world over started focusing on shedding weight.
But at the same time, when EADS controlled Airbus Industie was already in the midst of developing the Airbus A380. the crisis in the aviation industry struck, they chose to hedge their strategies with the development of the A350. It remains to be seen as how the competition in this segment shapes up as the A350 is still being developed.
The 787 Dreamliner is expected to join the ANA fleet by September or October this year. It is also expected to join Air India's fleet by the end of this calendar year, the second airline to have them. Air India's first two 787s are at advanced stages of completion at Boeing's Everett facilities and photographs of these jets in Air India's stylish livery have found their way on the internet - Flight Global's blogs actually carry the pictures of the first Air India 787, which has been registered as VT-ANA - any connection with ANA, I wonder. Jet Airways is also expected to induct the 787 Dreamliner sometime thereafter.

The 787 Dreamliner promises to be a different experience. The engineering and design of the 787 Dreamliners is kind of unconventional - the aircraft uses composite materials in fabrication of the fuselage, making way for lower fuel consumption by as much as 20%. The aircraft has a four-panel windshield, the engine nacelles are serrated to reduce noise (something that the Boeing 747-8i also features these) and an unconventional smoother nose contour. The nose contour is something that is something not easy to get used to, but slowly grows over you!
The interior mock-ups have built up a lot of excitement on what the final product would have - larger windows, LED mood lighting etc.
There is a lot of excitement that has been built up around the 787 Dreamliner as it does its rounds of demonstration flights around the globe. And it touched down at Delhi from Tokyo's Narita. It was scheduled to fly in to Bombay from Delhi, and I was hoping to catch a glimpse of the new beauty here. But sadly, the 787 Dreamliner flew back to Seattle directly from Delhi, as Bombay faced a high security alert following terror attacks.
My wait for the 787 Dreamliner seems to be a bit longer and hope I get to fly on them soon!

For Everything Else There Is A MasterCard!

2011-07-10T07:46:00.004+05:30

I had been thinking about this for a while now, how little, inexpensive things give us endless joy, somethings that even money can't buy!

This one tops my list! Think of getting up from deep sleep on an early hour in the morning, and you start planning for the day ahead, dreading the traffic to work and all. And then in a flash, you realise it's a Sunday morning. You can snooze off for a couple of hours at least. The realisation that it's a Sunday is priceless, no amount of money can buy you that kind of joy!

There is nothing that matches a cool lemonade on hot summer day - no cocktail, no fizzy drink can beat that taste.

There is nothing that matches the aroma of warm, freshly baked bread with butter and a warm cup of tea. That magical aroma will always be etched in my mind.

No gourmet chef can match a fresh warm puffed chapatti with a bowl of steaming tadka daal - I guarantee that this simple fare will tempt you to overeat!

There is nothing that matches the smell of the soil when it rains and nothing matches the joy of getting drenched in a cool downpour, providing you have hot ginger tea and pakodas waiting for you at home!

As I ran these little joys past Neeti, she rightly said, "For everything else there is a MasterCard!"

Law of the Garbage Truck‏

2011-07-07T21:37:00.002+05:30

A close family member sent this interesting email to me, which in a few sentences contains the basic lessons of life. Read on:

One day I hopped in a taxi and we took off for the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches!
The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. He was really friendly and smiling. So I asked, 'Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!'
He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it and sometimes they'll dump it on you.
Don't take it personally. Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don't take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets.
Successful people do not let garbage trucks take over their day. Love the people who treat you right. Pray for the ones who don't. Life is ten percent what you make it and ninety percent how you take it!

One Evening at Colaba Causeway....

2011-06-28T22:44:00.004+05:30

Great cities are melting pots - of people, cultures, cuisines. In this megapolis, Bombay, Colaba Causeway is truly an indicator of what the city had been - a true melting pot!

Proximity to the Sassoon Docks gets Colaba Causeway a good mix of races - whites, Jews, Arabs, Orientals, of varying backgrounds - sailors, tourists, hippies, businessmen, traders and prostitutes.

A lot of these people, are probably in the country for the first time, eager to experience India and what it hasd to offer. That gives enterprising locals a lot of business opportunities - some genuine and some on the seamier side.

We have cloned "I Love NY" tee-shirts here. "Om" and vedic chants on tee-shirts are other popular themes for the street-side vendors...

The glitter, the colour, of these bangles bowl the belles over, irrespective of background and ethnicity!

While Neeti was haggling around for her "good" deal on trinkets and faux jewelry, I was trigger happy with her camera phone.... and these ornaments just had to be shot!

I swear, women, of all ages, can spend hours beating away their blues, with this kind of "retail therapy"

Cafe Mondegar, or Mondys, as we in Bombay, call it, is a landmark of sorts - it tansforms into a smoke-filled cafe by evening, where office-goers and tourists chill with a beer and a bite or two!!!!
Mario Miranda's artwork on the walls, make the place all the more special! The busty Miss Fonseca and Miss Nimbupani remind of the old times!!!

Reminds me of Imelda Marcos!!!

Mariners' clocks - reminiscent of the old days!

This family managed to finally strike a hard bargain with this vendor - all after an effort of 15 minutes!

Leopold Cafe - a pretty average but snooty place - its fame courtesy, Lonely Planet!
This where the barbaric Pakistanis struck first on November 26, 2008!

Do I look good in these shades?"

Bombayites are openly scornful of Delhi, but have no qualms crowding up at Delhi Darbar!!!

Said to be an iconic institution - that's where I had my first bheja fry! Pretty average, though anything would taste palatable after a 45 minute wait in the aromas wafting in the sea breeze!

Living for Others is the Rule of Nature

2011-06-26T14:41:00.005+05:30

I came across this short and sweet post on the internet, which is so very true! I had to share it here. It goes as follows:

Nothing in the "Nature" lives for itself. "Rivers" don't drink their own waters. "Trees" don't eat their own fruits. "Sun" doesn't give heat for itself. "Flowers" don't spread fragrance for themselves.
Moral of the story: "Living for Others is the Rule of Nature."

This is so very true - the world would be a very different place if most of us start thinking this way!

Food .... What's Beyond The Taste?

2011-06-26T00:20:00.010+05:30

There are habits, traditions, styles and numerous other cultural aspects that we treasure as being our own, do we know where they really came from?

I just could not help but think about this, when I, recently, re-read about the discovery of the New World, the Americas, way back in 1492.

I wondered what would have our treasured Panjabi food been without corn, or potatoes, or chilli peppers? We are so used to the makki di rotiyan and the sarson daa saag and the aloo de parathey and the rajmah and the bharey hue shimla mirch (capsicum stuffed with spicy mashed potatoes) that living our lives without them would seem unimaginable. How many of us would have realised that the basic ingredients of these rustic Panjabi flavors have their humble origins in the New World.

We call the "time pass" roasted peanuts sold in local trains or in the "roadways" buses our own! Are they really ours?

Can you imagine a masala dosa without the spicy potato filling? Or a vada-pav, sold outside every suburban railway station in Bombay, without the batata-vada and the Portuguese Pão? Or the ubiquitous Indian snack, the samosa, without its filling of mashed potatoes and peas?

The New World gave the world, bounties of potatoes, tomatoes, chilli peppers, peanuts, tapioca, chocolate, vanilla, kidney-beans and pumpkins. We have, over the last 500 or so years, concocted our cuisines around these "adopted" flavours, and we call them our own today.

I would not be biased towards the Americas - the Middle East gave us chick peas - imagine not having chholey bhaturey on the menu? The Chinese gave us tea - would you ever hear shrill cries of "chai-i-chay-ae" on railway platforms and bus termini if we did not adapt to the incoming Chinese imports? And how can you ever think of a South Indian meal without the stimulating bitter-sweet filter coffee? Now that was an adapted taste from Ethiopia, that found its way to South India through the Arabs and then the Europeans - French and British!

But then India gave the world a condiment that was worth fighting wars for - pepper. It is believed, though the thought may seem controversial to some, that the Crusades were fought to secure trade routes to India - the place where pepper originated from. Then, as years went by, the desperation of the Europeans for pepper, led the Spaniards to venture westwards in the quest for spice - they ended up discovering the New World, that ultimately gave all these foods that we relish today! Legend has it that Columbus and his followers to the Americas christened the native American chillies as "peppers" in desperation!

That was all because of India! I thump my chest as I say this!

Our contribution the world goes beyond pepper. We gave the world the aromatic basmati rice, turmeric, and possibly saffron(?).

The role of religion in food cannot be discounted at all. Venison, or deer meat, which was a part of the popular cuisine in ancient Vedic India was taken off the plates by the advent of the Ashokan missionary style of Buddhism. Pork in Indian cuisine suffered a pitiable fate with the barbaric Islamic incursions into northern India. And in purely my opinion, beef was taken off ancient Indian menus, primarily as a religious edict, to conserve nutrition. A milk-giving animal consumed as meat, would be wasteful when compared to the wealth of nutrition that one could get from it - milk, butter, ghee (clarified butter), curd and butter milk! There's no better way to enforce all this than get religion to do it!
Rationally speaking, I guess that is what kosher is all about - not mixing milk and meat products is the rational way in a nutrition-scarce desert. If I am wrong here, I would love to hear from my Jewish friends!

Indian food has evolved into a richer form, never got decimated, with the incoming flavours, over the centuries! The intercourse of food habits and ingredients is not bastardisation of food, as the adaption in India has shown. Certainly McDonaldization is not going to kill our rich culinary traditions. Neither is the Indo-Chinese brand of food popularised by the likes of Mainland China. The interplay will only make our cuisine richer.

And lets not lose sight of what we have to offer the world - we need strategic thought - say a government fund to encourage export of food chains - that would take the biryanis, chicken tikkas, chholey bhaturey, samosas, vada-pav, masala dosas into the world, with Indian brands. (I am told Ugandans have already taken to samosas and chapattis as their own cuisine!)

Adaptation of Indian food around the world would give India immense soft power!

Interconnectedness....

2011-05-20T23:42:00.001+05:30

There are so many lessons to be learnt from nature, from life around us. We need to realise life and nature are vast interconnected systems - our actions, what we do can have a deep and profound impacts, the magnitude of which could be unimaginable today. I came across this interesting story of a Nebraskan farmer that shows the interconnectedness that we so often ignore. Read on!

There was a Nebraska farmer who grew award-winning corn. Each year he entered his corn in the state fair where it won a blue ribbon... One year a newspaper reporter interviewed him and learned something interesting about how he grew it.
The reporter discovered that the farmer shared his seed corn with his neighbors. "How can you afford to share your best seed corn with your neighbors when they are entering corn in competition with yours each year?" the reporter asked.
"Why sir," said the farmer, "didn't you know? The wind picks up pollen from the ripening corn and swirls it from field to field. If my neighbors grow inferior corn, cross-pollination will steadily degrade the quality of my corn. If I am to grow good corn, I must help my neighbors grow good corn."
He is very much aware of the connectedness of life. His corn cannot improve unless his neighbor's corn also improves. So it is in other dimensions.
Those who choose to be at peace must help their neighbors to be at peace.
Those who choose to live well must help others to live well, for the value of a life is measured by the lives it touches.
And those who choose to be happy must help others to find happiness for the welfare of each is bound up with the welfare of all.
The lesson for each of us is this: if we are to grow good corn, we must help our neighbors grow good corn.

Enchanting Pacific!

2011-05-19T21:04:00.009+05:30

These days the idyllic Pacific islands seem to be having quite a lot of action ever since the late 1990s or so.

But being in India has its disadvantages, all news is West-centric. Besides the usual neighbourhood focus, we love to know what's happening in the United States and the United Kingdom. The Pacific seems like a galaxy a couple of light years away from India!

The only time the India media focused attention on the Pacific was Fiji has political unrest - the numerous coups and political battles between the indigenous Fijians and Indo-Fijians.

But little does one know that the Pacific has several interesting things going. Living on scarce natural and economic resources can be interesting. For instance, the tiny Pacific nation of Tuvalu has licensed its internet domain ".tv" to a VeriSign affiliate, dotTV, which further sells domains to .tv to television and media sites. Now Tuvalu gets 20% of dotTV's earnings as royalty - that's estimated to gross USD 50 million! Now how many of us would have realised that .tv belongs to a tiny Pacific realm called Tuvalu? How many of us would have even heard of Tuvalu, in the first place?

Now things get even more interesting. There is a small island nation in the Pacific called the Samoa. Governed by the Germans before the World War I, the island state came under indirect British control through a League of Nations trusteeship awarded to New Zealand. But unlike other Commonwealth nations, Samoa drove on the right. Much recently, in 2009, Samoa took a decision to switch sides on the road and like us, in India, Samoans now drive on the right. Samoa had the distinction of being the first nation since the 1970s to switchover. A two day holiday was announced to ease traffic woes! The economic rationale for this was sound - Samoa imports most of its vehicles from Australia and New Zealand - being right hand drives, these cheap imports were unsuitable for use on Samoan roads!

Samoa is even more interesting. It became the only nation in modern nation to schedule a "time travel" to December 29, 2011! Yes, to move the calender ahead by a day. The Samoan islands, that lie just eastward off the International Date Line, are a day behind their closest neig

hbour, Tonga. So if it is Monday in Tonga (or even its largest trading partners - Australia and New Zealand, Samoa enjoys its Sunday fun. This was cited as an economic dampner. And hence the decision to shift to the westward from the International Date Line.

Samoa's eastern neighbour Tonga has a dubious distinction, shared with another Pacific isle, Nauru, of having a significant obese population - 70% plus of their population. It isn't funny that the late King of Tonga, Tāufaʻāhau Tupou IV, was the heaviest monarch in the world, weighing in at over 200 kg at one point of time! I wonder if these mind boggling statistics can be attributed to genetics? That would be good for medical scientists to study!

Besides obesity, Nauru also has a dubious record of stripping natural resources without developing the economy. Rich in phosphates, Nauru mined its resources at a feverish pace for exports without building economic infrastructure. Today when the phosphates have run out, the economy is in shambles and unemployment is high at 90%. The country was forced to become a tax haven to survive!

The island nation of Palau, east of the Philippines, served host to terror suspects, in anticipation of closure of Guantanamo Bay by the Obama administration. Isn't that taking terror to the idyllic Pacific?

The Pacific nations enter the big bad world of global diplomacy when they smartly play off China against Taiwan in the game of diplomatic recognition in return for aid! Tonga, Kiribati and a whole host of Pacific nations have done that to their benefit.

Despite its natural beauty, the Pacific remains a fragile ecosystem, that faces a serious threat of decimation from rising sea levels and global warming. Nations like Tuvalu would be wiped off the globe if climate change is not arrested, its not funny if you are a Tuvaluan. Already, the Pacific waters are turning acidic and sea life is getting scarcer by the day.

Natural beauty aside, the Pacific is a vexillilogist's delight. The joy of seeing flags of Kiribati or Vanuatu is matchless. Fiji is also unique in the sense that despite not being a Commonwealth Realm, it flies Union Jack ensign!

But the images in my mind are crystal clear. As kid browsing through National Geographic magazine's articles on the Pacific, I was enchanted by the beauty and remoteness of the Pacific! To me, the Pacific is an ideal combination of being with oneself and being with nature. And someday, I would love to go there, to the Pacific, its emerald isles, to the atolls and azure lagoons and soak in nature, before it is lost forever.

Enjoy your Cup of Coffee

2011-05-10T20:52:00.001+05:30

Another enchanting story from the Net forced me to wonder if the grind was worth it. Think about it. Here goes.

A group of alumni, highly established in their careers, got together to visit their old university lecturer. Conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in work and life. Offering his guests coffee, the lecturer went to the kitchen and returned with a large pot of coffee and an assortment of cups: porcelain, plastic, glass, some plain-looking and some expensive and exquisite, telling them to help themselves to hot coffee.

When all the students had a cup of coffee in hand, the lecturer said: "If you noticed, all the nice-looking, expensive cups were taken up, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones. While it is but normal for you to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and stress. What all of you really wanted was coffee, not the cup, but you consciously went for the better cups and are eyeing each other's cups."

"Now, if Life is coffee, then the jobs, money and position in society are the cups. They are just tools to hold and contain Life, but the quality of Life doesn't change." "Sometimes, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the coffee in it."

So folks, don't let the cups drive you...enjoy the coffee instead"

Did Geronimo Have a Cadillac?

2011-05-04T21:21:00.008+05:30

The other day, the world's most wanted man, Osama bin Laden was smoked out from his "rat hole" and hunted down by the US Navy Seals in Abbottabad, Pakistan, in an operation called "Operation Neptune's Spear", "Jackpot" being Osama's code while "Geronimo" was Osama's code in death!
Now that rang a bell - yes, there was a Modern Talking song called Geronimo's Cadillac - a popular song that reminded me of the heady 1980's! But the Geronimo of today's world is not about innocence of the 1980's, not about Cadillacs in any case!
While there is little doubt that the very thought of Osama bin Laden had terrorised the world for a little over than a decade now and he ought to have been brought to justice, Operation Neptune's Spear leads us to ask a number of unanswered questions.

Did the Operation Neptune's Spear really take place or was it another "wagging the dog" incident? That was the first thought that came to my mind when I read about the operation.
Questions on the complicity and competence of the Pakistani Army and the ISI were raised following the incident. I believe this was a grand show put up by both the United States and Pakistan. It is plausible that while the United States had been on the trail of Osama, Pakistan ensured that the "strategic asset" lived on safely, despite his kidney condition, in an army garrison town, with above-par medical facilities, and also ensured the "strategic asset" was fattened and kept ready for the slaughter.
The timing of the operation itself was a big give-away - the United States government barely averted a shutdown as the Grand Old Party and the Democrats clashed over the Budget and Obama's popularity waning.
With elections coming up in 2012, Obama needed to show some action, he needed to prove he was at least as muscular as Dubya Bush.
So, as Obama announced he is to run for the 2012 election, the Seals took off from Jalalabad, the Pakistanis turned off their radars, the Pakistani soldiers in the garrison went off into a deep slumber (or, were they "drugged"?) while the bombing was happening. And finally the Seals flashed the message - Geronimo EKIA.
It suits Pakistanis to feign ignorance now and put up a rant against the United States, while Obama walks with the "dubious claim" of eliminating terror!
Osama was terror, but terror is not Osama alone. So the myth that the world is a safer place now may soon be shattered as al-Qaeda is still not eliminated, it may live on despite Obama's feat, and would threaten the world again to prove that they are a potent force. That does not augur well for the world.
We cannot harbour unrealistic expectations today, rather have to be pragmatic today. India has tried to ride this wave and has demanded action that others on the wanted list be handed over. Pakistan will never mend its ways - you cannot teach an old dog new tricks. There is no incentive for the United States to fight for India. We cannot attack a nuclear adversary, so we go covert - fund and arm the Baluchis and Sindhis, get them to eliminate the Pakistanis on our most wanted list and also to break Pakistan from within.
Now coming back to the Geronimo story - Geronimo was a native Indian leader in the 1800s who opposed American expansionism into Apache lands, got taken as a prisoner of war, his terms of surrender were not honoured and died in 1909. It is ironic that the United States which grew on the back of expansionism and elimination of natives today preaches the world on terror.
Obama (or Geronimo) has gone, but did he have Cadillac? He sure did have a SUV fleet in Abbottabad!

Wherever there is Love, there is also Wealth and Success!!!!!!

2011-05-03T21:14:00.001+05:30

I saw this small piece on the internet and I had to share it on Rajeev's World. It is true that love is very powerful and propels us to great heights.

A woman came out of her house and saw 3 old men with long white beard sitting in her front yard. She did not recognize them.

She said "I don't think I know you, but you must be hungry.
Please come in and have something to eat."

"Is the man of the house home?", they asked.

"No", she replied.

"He's out."

"Then we cannot come in", they replied.

In the evening when her husband came home, she told him what had happened.

"Go tell them I am home and invite them in!"

The woman went out and invited the men in.

"We do not go into a House together," they replied.

"Why is that?" she asked.

One of the old men explained: "His name is Wealth," he said pointing to one of his friends, and said pointing to another one, "He is Success, and I am Love." Then he added, "Now go in and discuss with your husband which one of us you want in your home."

The woman went in and told her husband what was said. Her husband was overjoyed. "How nice!", he said. "Since that is the case, let us invite Wealth. Let him come and fill our home with wealth!"

His wife disagreed. "My dear, why don't we invite Success?"

Their daughter was listening from the other corner of the house. She jumped in with her own suggestion: "Would it not be better to invite Love? Our home will then be filled with love!"

"Let us heed our daughter's advice," said the husband to his wife. "Go out and invite Love to be our guest."

The woman went out and asked the 3 old men, "Which one of you is Love? Please come in and be our guest."

Love got up and started walking toward the house. The other 2 also got up and followed him. Surprised, the lady asked Wealth and Success: "I only invited Love, why are you coming in?"

The old men replied together: "If you had invited Wealth or Success, the other two of us would've stayed out, but since you invited Love, wherever he goes, we go with him. Wherever there is Love, there is also Wealth and Success!!!!!!"

Of QEII, Long Serving Rulers & the Lust for Power....

2011-04-29T20:33:00.003+05:30

Today, the world witnessed the Royal Wedding - the wedding of Prince William and Catherine Middleton.

India was not to be left behind in that grand show of pomp and regalia. People waited here for the wedding to begin with a certain anxiousness that is normally observed before an emotional cricket match, something like an India-Pakistan World Cup encounter.

Televisions in offices, which are normally reserved for business news channels like CNBC, had BBC on, for a change with people huddled around excitedly waiting for a glimpse of their favourite royal. Those who had critical work that day, logged on to websites streaming the wedding live. And I thought whether I was in British India or an independent India?

I found it odd that an event of this nature would get work to a standstill, especially since the Royal Wedding does not impact India directly or indirectly, by any stretch of imagination.

As people around me experienced the vicarious thrills of seeing the wedding, I could not help but realise that the Queen, Elizabeth II, was nearly 85 years. She has been wearing the Kohinoor on her Crown for over 56 years now.

It is also a fact that she had refused to abdicate when the British Royalty faced a existential crisis prior to and after Lady Diana's tragic death. And she continues to hold on to her Crown and throne, despite her heir, Crown Prince Charles, crossing in to the 60s, well past the normal retirement age in most countries.

Modern royalty does have examples of monarchs stepping down in favour of younger and more dynamic princes and princesses. Wikipedia lists down monarchs of Netherlands, Luxembourg, Cambodia, Bhutan and Liechtenstein who have actually stepped down, in the recent past. The same source even says abdication is considered normal and even expected in the Netherlands.

But the Queen still sticks on to her throne stubbornly it seems! Long live the Queen!

Now the Queen's 56 years on the throne beats the likes of Muammar al-Gaddafi, of Libya, who ruled for 41 years, Ali Abdullah Saleh, of Yemen, who has ruled for over 30 years, Fidel Castro of Cuba, who ruled for nearly 49 years or even Robert Mugabe who still clings on to his position with brute force after 31 years of virtual dictatorship.

Would the Queen be proud to be a part of this dubious club? I doubt that.

But then it is power, which is the elixir of life for many of these people. They live, eat, drink and sleep on power, they thrive on power, power flows through their veins, makes their heart beat.

We have seen that in India as well, with the ever increasing number of geriatric politicians who desperately cling on power despite being old, paralysed and being hardly in control of their senses - prime examples were or are the likes of Arjun Singh, N.D. Tiwari, Sitaram Kesari, Sharad Pawar, Karunanidhi, etc.

Now the question I have is if these people are not in control of their faculties, do they have the right or the capability to govern a nation of over 1.2 billion? Now, assume for a moment that I am wrong and that these are indeed capable individuals, they why does the Indian government have a retirement age of 58 or 60 for its personnel? Would these geriatric politicians ever get recruited into an Indian government job, if they were not politicians?

The bottomline is that rules are for the ruled and are not for the rulers, who rule, virtually rule-free.

It takes strength of character to nurture the next line of leadership and give up one's position for new blood well in time. The Dalai Lama and Nelson Mandela have shown the way on this. The world will continue to respect them for this. That's why I respect them the most.

I wonder what has shaped their character? Was it the 27 years in jail for the Madiba or an exile for the spiritual leader that shaped their respective characters?

But then not every leader or a statesman is a Dalai Lama or a Nelson Mandela.... that's the sad part!

MMRCA Deal -- To Buy Or Not To Buy - Was That Ever The Question?

2011-04-28T21:38:00.004+05:30

The post-Cold War strategic realignments saw India and the United States move closer. That closeness culminated in a bear hug when the two countries concluded the nuclear deal.

In that context, for most observers, it was a foregone conclusion that the Indian Air Force's order for procuring 126 Medium Multi-Role Combat Aircraft (MMRCA) at an estimated cost of a whopping US$ 9 billion would go to the Americans - either Lockheed Martin's F-16s or Boeing's F/A-18 Super Hornets.

These suspicions were further strengthened when Obama visited India. There was all that talk about creation of jobs in the United States (read: India awarding massive defence contracts to the United States and keeping the assembly lines in the United States moving).

We all suspected that that there was a quid-pro-quo - Obama would back India's bid for permanent membership of the United Nations Security Council in return for creating the jobs that Obama has been talking about ad nauseaum!

But there was a problem, Washington. The F-16s have been in operation since the mid-1970s. The Indian Air Force needed fighters to replace the aging MiGs. But should we be so desperate for a replacement at any cost, that we end up replacing one aging fighter with another one, which is reaching the tail of its design life. The F-16s would not have served the Indian Air Force's strategic unstated objective of staying ahead of the curve vis-a-vis regional powers. Another big factor that went against the F-16s was probably that the Pakistanis have flown the F-16s already for over 20-odd years, they would be ahead of us on the F-16's learning curve, they would know the limitations and flaws of the F-16s already. Should we be naive and play into the Pakistani hands by buying the F-16s?

So why not the F/A-18 Super Hornets then, which are considerably newer machines? Dealing with the United States is not easy. We signed the nuclear deal with the United States nearly 2 years back, but we are no where close to implementing the deal with them. So would the United States actually support India when needed, when faced with a belligerent situation, with critical spares and support? Who would want to bet on that?

That left the Russians and Europeans in the contention for the Indian Air Force's MMRCA.

The Admiral Gorshkov aircraft carrier armtwisting episode has left India seething with anger and extreme distrust of the Russians. Surely there is a big difference between the Soviet regime and the Russian regime of today. Would we want to risk grounding the entire Indian Air Force fleet, if Russia were to armtwist us again? Another deciding factor could have been that the MiG-35s are an incremental improvement on the MiG-29s, which are already operated by the Indian Air Force.

With the Europeans, it is a different matter. Time and again, we have seen that it is much much easier to deal with the Europeans. They surely do move with speed and are far more pragmatic. They do not seem bogged down by strategic millstones around their necks. The French proved that when they concluded the Areva nuclear reactor deal with us.

Putting all strategic eggs in one basket, as far as defence supplies go, is a foolish thing to do in light of our geopolitical and economical interests. Having denied the MMRCA opportunity to the United States does not mean that they do not figure in India's geopolitical radar. So the Indian Air Force would do well with a blended fleet of the Sukhoi 30 MKIs, the LCA and the MMRCA -- the Eurofighter Typhoon or Dassault Rafale.

But as a growing power, we need the strategic lift capability in our region of economic interest as well as a capability to launch a stealth assault.

When it comes to strategic lift capability, no one beats the Americans with the C-17A Globemaster III. Let us remember, the Europeans failed at military freighters, with the Airbus A400M freighter not doing too well - the South African Air Force even cancelled its orders for the A400M. While procurement for the C-17A s gets worked out, the Indian Air Force needs to expedite the induction of the C-130J Super Hercules.

Stealth airpower has come on our northern skies already, with the Chinese having developed and test flying the Chengdu J-20, in January this year (that Robert Gates was in Beijing then was no coincidence!). While India already has an understanding with the Russians for jointly developing a fifth generation fighter - HAL and Sukhoi are to collaborate on it, we should not wait for another twenty years. We can build a stealth capability by giving the Americans a juicy order for the Lockheed Martin F-35 Lightning II. And we will give them jobs too!

To buy or not to buy the American MMRCAs, that was the question, that the Indian Air Force has answered well. Now is the time to sit with the Americans and close orders for freighters and fifth generation fighters!

How Weird Can Our Planners Get?

2011-04-27T21:18:00.001+05:30

A few months back, we in Bombay's commercial business district of Bandra Kurla Complex, saw that the sides of the roads were being cordoned off. We were told that these were to be cycle tracks. The photograph alongside shows the tracks in green.

Great idea in general! A greener way of transportation.

But then the next question is how many people come to Bandra Kurla Complex on bicycles? Are habitations close by that riding a bicycle to the this business hub would be a fruitful proposition?

Having worked in Bandra Kurla Complex for over 5 years now, I am convinced that the answer is a big NO.

In these 5 years in Bandra Kurla Complex, I have hardly seen any one come to work on bicycle.

Now the question is how did this project get approved? Was any study or survey to support this investment? Did anyone stand to benefit from this wasteful investment?

This kind of faulty planning ails the metros of India today.

It could not get weirder than this....

हज़ारों की ख्वाहिशें ऐसी -- Hazaaron Ki Khwaishein Aisi!

2011-04-10T20:31:00.007+05:30

हज़ारों की ख्वाहिशें ऐसी!

Thousands of Indians yearn for this, for corruption to be weeded out. For transactions to be free from the facilitating आना (Anna).

I guess, that it was high time for a person like Anna Hazare to stand up for what the masses yearn for - हज़ारों की ख्वाहिशें!

It is indeed atrocious to hear about what all scams are being perpetrated by the people in positions of political and administrative authority.

In March 2010, India was horrified when Mayawati was garlanded with Rs. 1,000 notes. It was presumed that Rs. 200 crores were spent in that rally itself! I had then echoed Gordon Gekko's sentiment that for our leaders, Greed is Good!

But it did not stop at that.

Greed was even better when the 2G telecom scam deprived each poor Indian household of nearly 20,000.

Then onions made us cry - the shortfall was apparently "created" and India was forced to import onions. And what not?

The problem is that shady deals that our politicians enter into through their cronies result in crores of Rupees being siphoned out of the system. And those figures are obscene. Here I quote from my blog post of March 2010, Greed is Good:

I came across two sources on the Net which referred to Swiss Banking Association reports of 2006 and 2008 which talk of deposits from India exceeding US$ 1.5 trillion, now that's an obscenely, astounding Rs. 65,25,000 crore.

Between then and now nothing would have changed the amounts would have only gone up and beyond my imagination.

The Indian people are frustrated today. Development has all but ceased. The government claims to start off developmental work, but not even a penny trickles down. This has created dangerous disparities between the "haves" and the "have-nots".

All this money stashed abroad can be put to good use - develop the education system, build infrastructure, overhaul the bureaucracy and what not.

The corrupt system is such that one things feeds the other. For instance, business houses have an interest in perpetrating corruption to speed up deals and to outwit competition, for which they pay bureaucrats and politicians -- Radiagate is case in point. Politicians thrive on bureaucrats to push the "dirty" deals and they need money from business houses to bank-roll election campaigns. And recently, there was some news on bad apples in the judicial system also! Neither is the Fourth Estate all that clean.

The bottomline -- everyone has a vested interest in seeing that the corrupt system not only survives but thrives - it's a "you scratch my back, I'll scratch your back" kind of environment.

Public response to corruption is also strange. We tolerate sophisticated corruption at the apex, yet make a big issue out of a traffic cop demanding a bribe.

I recall a recent incident, when Neeti and I were taking friends out for dinner. While taking a U-turn, we jumped lanes and were flagged down by a cop, who did not carry a receipt. We wanted to get away by giving him a Rs. 50 banknote, but this friend of ours literally threw names of top cops and terrified the young cop, insisting on a receipt which came an hour later!

Now if a minister can accept bribes that run into billions and launder the money away to British Virgin Islands, is a poor cop wrong when he accepts a bribe? Remember, the poor cop earns barely Rs. 5,000 a month, lives in a shabby slum, stands up against the weather to keep the traffic going. And is throwing names not corruption? When we stand up against corruption, we need to ask ourselves whether do this.

To weed out this self-sustaining system, it will take surely more than a Anna Hazare. How? Time will give us answers.

But for now, elements in the system would go all out against Anna Hazare and however cynical I may sound, the ख्वाहिशें or wishes would remain wishes....

The Future of Cricket?

2011-04-09T21:56:00.002+05:30

I must admit this that it was the first time I watched a match from the first to the last ball after that famous quarter final encounter between the Indian and the Pakistani side during the 1996 Wills World Cup!

After gorging on Kangaroo steaks and pulping the Pakistani greens into a spicy chutney, the Indian team was a worthy entrant into the finals. And before the match, I tweeted that India deserved a good cup of Ceylon tea after the match.

But we all were disappointed to see Sachin and Sehwag get out in the first few overs, courtesy, the killer blonde, Malinga. Isn't it true that our countrymen have created a major hype around these so called "stalwarts"? How is it that despite their calibre, they always fail to deliver when they are most expected to?

Had this scenario played out a decade ago, the whole team would then have fallen like a pack of cards, but leading from the front is what mattered this time. Captain Dhoni's unbeaten knock alongwith the stabilising partnership of Gautam Gambhir and Virat Kohli silenced the lion's roar.

The rest was history! The cup was ours!

Yes, I said "ours" and not Sachin's. This team played for India, under India's tricolour and not for Sachin, so was it fair for the to be termed as Sachin's cup (is Sachin bigger than India?), especially when his contribution was a big naught in the victory?

But full marks to Dhoni and Gary Kirsten. It was Dhoni's maturity to take all this crap about this being an individual's cup in his stride, obviously he knew the cup was India's.

Isn't it true that the IPL was a game changer for Indian cricket - exposure to international players in franchisee teams helped us learn from their techniques, strategies, training techniques, etc. making them more confident and less dependent on the so-called biggies? We cannot take away the credit that is due to Lalit Modi for this.

The celebrations that followed the cup victory were spontaneous and lusty. The streets in Bombay were clogged with revellers on bikes and cars, with vuvuzelas, waving the tricolour (I had never seen so many tricolours in one place), with bystanders enthusiastically cheering those on cars and bikes. The festivities went on till early in the morning.

The spontaneous outburst of joy erupted in Delhi too, with a crowd as big as the Holy Ganga that flowed in and around the India Gate. And that was a great opportunity for the "First Family" of Indian politics to attempt to wash off all the sins of this government -- corruption and inaction and lethargy in this flowing Ganga of humanity!!!!

This is the popularity of cricket in the Indian sub-continent, but it isn't the same elsewhere. Rugby is more popular in Australia, football is more popular than cricket in England.

For cricket to be an commercially viable game, internationally, it has to take on soccer - today it isn't. Television viewership proves this. The 2010 FIFA World Cup in South Africa had a viewership of 400 million per match, as against only 67 million for the finals of 2011 ICC World Cup. That speaks a lot about the global popularity of the game.

That is because cricket, internationally, is a game of the "bada sahebs" with only 10 nations entitled to play test matches (and world cups), despite having 105 members - the remaining 95 "minnows" have to compete amongst themselves to earn their right to participate! In the long run, this apartheid is not good for the commercial success of the game.

Let's not forget being a "minnow" does not mean that the teams are weak or don't have any potential, as ICC's apartheid makes it out to be. Sri Lanka and Zimbabwe were associate members or minnows once. Sri Lanka went on to win the cup in 1996, while despite the talent, cricket in Zimbabwe got messed up in the Mugabe tangle.

What gives these 10 nations the birthright to participate in World Cups and tests, despite some of them pathetically performing, like say Zimbabwe, in this World Cup? Even the minnow, Ireland, was better than Zimbabwe this time around.

Should cricket not evolve like football, where regional qualifiers would determine who goes into the world cup? That way the minnows would get exposed to the so called biggies and this would also boost the popularity of the game in the countries where cricket is still evolving.

So if, say, Brazil has to play a Suriname in the Latin American qualifiers to earn a berth in the FIFA World Cup, India could do well to play against say Singapore or Afghanistan, or say, even Australia compete with the minnows of the Pacific, Papua New Guinea or Fiji to earn their respective berths in the ICC World Cup. The future of cricket lies in making it an inclusive game.

We did win the cup, it was a joyous occasion, but cricket still remains the opium of the masses, the intoxicant that stops the nation in its tracks (some of India's biggest corporates had an unofficial half day on the day of the most emotional, India-Pakistan encounter). Is that not a waste of valuable resources?

But for now, let the feel good factor last, till the next scam breaks out! And let me enjoy my cup of Ceylon tea!

I Love Apple!

2011-03-26T19:54:00.011+05:30

Earlier this month, Steve Jobs unveiled the second generation iPad, the iPad 2.

I remember when our love affair with Apple started - that was when we bought out our first Apple product - an iPod Shuffle, way back in 2007. When Neeti opened the smart packaging, I recall her squealing with joy and amazement at the new gadget. Imagine 1GB, 260 odd songs, ain't that great!!!

Then, Apple moved into phones with the iPhone 2G. The first iPhone I saw was a 2G that a colleague had bought. The excitement that was generated that morning in office when he walked in with his iPhone 2G is indescribable and was something to be seen and experienced.

Apple turned me and Neeti into gadget freaks. The love affair was officially consummated when iPhone 3G "officially" came to India much later in late 2008 or early 2009.

Living with a telecom and devices aficionado, Neeti, who lives and breathes technology, discussions at our dinner table revolved around 3G, Android, Apple and all that stuff. Apple's iPad naturally found its way into our discussions. And gradually we veered around to the idea of waiting for the then to be released iPad 2 to be launched in India officially. News sites were rife with speculation that the new version would have - 2-way cameras, USB ports, retina display, so on and so forth. And we knew it that iPad 2 was the thing for us.

And so waited with bated breaths.

As the unveiling ceremony was on in San Francisco, we logged in, on to CNN's webcast of the event and sat through the entire event.

Wow, what a device!

But there is a certain stubbornness associated with Apple's devices. For instance, none of the Apple devices support Adobe Flash. The iPad 2 still does not have a USB port, as many expected. The battery is not replaceable by the user.

I recall our visit to Croma's store at High Street Phoenix, Lower Parel, where Neeti and I were checking out the first version of the iPad. Quite obviously, a Parsi girl, I would imagine between 10-12, tugged in her mother into the store to check out the device. The girl and her mom moved in next to us and the girl started "experiencing" the iPad like the way a duck would take to the water. Her mom called a store assistant and rattled off a number of questions.

"Isme Tata Photon lagega?"

"No ma'am, you will need a 3G SIM card or a Wi-Fi connection."

"Ohh, can I print files from this 'computer'?" -- as she called the Tab a computer, her daughter turned red with embarrassment and glanced at me slyly hoping I did not hear what her mom said!!!!

"No ma'am, you can't fire a print from here."

"Can I transfer photos from my digital camera directly to this computer?" -- now this freaked out the kid, she was almost in tears on her mom's ignorance.

"No, ma'am, you need a PC to sync data."

I looked at the mom and smiled. She looked at me, smiled and then turned to her daughter "What use is this thing, if we still need a PC?" and looked at me for approval..... That was the ultimate embarrassment for the cute little girl who had expectantly tugged her mom in to Croma to buy her the iPad. I bet, she would have protested by skipping dinner that night.

What impresses me about Apple is the way Steve jobs has inculcated a culture of defining the curve, before "me-too's" are able to get the plot. The secrecy surrounding their products is joked about as being stricter than that of the CIA itself! They know they have their aficionados, who will be there and they will never be disappointed. The news also had reports of people queuing up hours before store opening time to get their Apple first! In fact, one person sold her position at the head of the iPad 2 queue for over USD900 - she smartly recovered the cost of her Apple gadget twice over.

But what baffles me is perhaps Steve Jobs has not really understood the potential of the Indian market. How cheated do Indian Apple fans feel when they officially get the original version of the iPad, just about a month before iPad 2 was launched. So, is Apple dumping unsellable original fist generation iPads in India?

Also Apple chooses to remain silent on dubious employee practices at their manufacturer's end - Foxconn (HonHai), the Chinese contract manufacturer, gained notoriety for labour practices which pushed a lot of their employees to suicide.

Having said that, it is hard not to appreciate Steve Jobs for his spirit to fight back whatever odds come his way. Battling ill health - cancer and liver transplant, he steered Apple to invincible heights. And he came back from his indefinite medical leave to launch the iPad 2. Such is his passion. I can never forget seeing his 2005 commencement address at the Stanford University, where he talks of "finding what you love" and "staying hungry and staying foolish" - questioning the convention. The passionate speech would leave anyone spellbound.

The problem is that such leaders have an aura around them that it does indeed become difficult for the second rung to outshine the spiraling expectations of the environment.

Bu Apple has been a success for being on the cutting edge, defining the market and also for its investors. I recall a quote from the lovable movie, Forrest Gump, where Forrest says "Lieutenant Dan got me invested in some kind of fruit company. So then I got a call from him, saying we don't have to worry about money no more. And I said, that's good! One less thing."

The lesson here for the corporate world is that operational performance has to precede stellar stock performance, as Apple has shown when compared to the performance of US stocks.

So, everyone loves Apple, so do I!!!

Band Bajayega Bollywood

2011-03-18T23:20:00.001+05:30

After a hiatus of over three months, we had a lot to catch up on the movies department. That opportunity came last week, when on a whim Neeti and I booked ourselves two seats for Band Baaja Baraat!

Being away from home, any

movie that shows life in North India, particularly Punjabi culture and Delhi is uniquely appealing for us. Band Baaja Baraat seemed to be exactly that kind of a movie, from what the reviews said.

The other reason why I was particularly keen on the movie was because I have quite liked Anushka Sharma ever since her debut, as Taani Ji, with Shahrukh Khan in Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi in 2008 (I can never forget a classic - Shahrukh blurting out syaapa, when he tugged at his laptop through a pen drive which was looped around his neck!!!). But Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi was a different ball game, obviously Anushka was overshadowed by Shahrukh in the movie.

Anushka is the quintessential girl next door, with an unusual spunkiness that makes her breeze through her character. I would concede that Deepika Padukone too does score high on the girl next door kind of a look, but clearly lacks Anushka’s spunk to pull it off, though I would still rate her high.

I do remember telling Neeti after her debut that Anushka would make it big in tinsel town, and reaffirmed that after Badmash Company, on which I got a standard “okay, may be” kind of responses. While Neeti would never speak greatly about my preference of actresses, she did choose to remain silent on Anushka, which gave it away – she does agree with me on that.

Another distinctively feature that Anushka has capitalized on is her very apparent Punjabi looks – that is a bit odd as she’s a Garwahli. But she pulls it off real well especially when she’s in Patialas.

Having said a lot on Anushka, its time to get back to Band Baaja Barat. A simple plot woven into magical imagery on the screen, it certainly was not Ainvaiye Ainvaiye!!! I would give half of the credit for that to Ranveer Singh who complemented Anushka on getting the real feel of young college going North Indian kids, and their kaands. Sex was an integral part of the plot and it was handled very very succinctly, very sensuously. I have seen very few Indian movies that have handled sex as maturely as this movie.

Immediately after getting out of the multiplex, we booked ourselves for the next day’s show of Tanu Weds Manu, which was entertaining in parts, but no way close to Band Baaja Baraat. Though Kangana does score a 10 on 10 for stylishness, she does need to go a long way on dialogue delivery but is zero on spunk. Madhavan as always played his part well, mature, yet boyish, sophisticated yet flirty!

It does seem that Bollywood is coming of age, breaking out of that NRI-esque mould, the Karan Johar concocted melodramas, especially when one sees movies like Band Baaja Baraat or a Do Dooni Chaar or a Khosla Ka Ghosla, which are based on the struggles of real people, the middle class – they could be you, the ones next door, the ones sitting next to you on the Metro or wherever. Obviously, you don’t need a “Main Zandu Balm Hui” or “Shiela ki Jawani” kind of songs to make the movie a hit. (Let’s accept it – such songs do have some utility as I figured out when my colleague told me that his 7 year old son likes “Shiela ki Jawani” very much and therefore he and his wife were relieved because their son “noormal chhe” and is not gay!!!!).

Surely much better cinema is in store for us - Band Bajayega Bollywood!!!

Off The Cuff

2011-03-16T22:10:00.004+05:30

Recently, I came across this anecdotal, "in your face", inspirational and witty speech delivered by the late Sri Lanka Foreign Minister, Lakshman Kadirgamar, to the Sri Lankan cricket team in the United Kingdom during the World Cup of 2003.

I sometimes wonder whether our sissy politicians would be savvy enough, or rather would have any time from their innumerable scams to take time out to inspire Indian youth. I would imagine no. But it appears that India's engine of enterprise, be it civil service, business or sports, would go on and on, despite or inspite of the government and our senseless politicians.

I can never imagine our "esteemed" external affairs minister ever taking a principled stand on supporting sportsmen on doubtful decisions. Knowing fully well that India is high on cricket now, as the World Cup in on right now, I have reproduced the speech in full over here, as these emotions are what all Indians would have:

"Captain Atapattu and members of the Sri Lankan team, Members of the Sri Lankan community, Friends of Sri Lanka, Ladies and Gentlemen,
Some historians say, I think uncharitably, that cricket is really a diabolical political strategy, disguised as a game, in fact a substitute for War, invented by the ingenious British to confuse the natives by encouraging them to fight each other instead of their imperial rulers.
The world is divided into two camps - those who revel in the intricacies of cricket and those who are totally baffled by it, who cannot figure out why a group of energetic young men should spend days, often in the hot sun or bitter cold, chasing a ball across an open field, hitting it from time to time with a stick - all to the rapturous applause of thousands, now millions, of ecstatic spectators across the world. The game has developed a mystical language of its own that further bewilders those who are already befuddled by its complexities.
In the course of my travels I have a hard time explaining to the non-cricketing world - in America , China , Europe and Russia - that a 'googly' is not an Indian sweetmeat; that a 'square cut' is not a choice selection of prime beef; that a 'cover drive' is not a secluded part of the garden; that a 'bouncer' is not a muscular janitor at a night club, that a 'Yorker is not some exotic cocktail mixed in Yorkshire or that a 'leg-break' is not a sinister manoeuvre designed to cripple your opponent's limbs below the waist.
Ladies and Gentlemen, let me see whether politics and cricket have anything in common. Both are games. Politicians and cricketers are superficially similar, and yet very different. Both groups are wooed by the cruel public who embrace them today and reject them tomorrow.
Cricketers work hard; politicians only pretend to do so. Cricketers are disciplined; discipline is a word unknown to most politicians in any language. Cricketers risk their own limbs in the heat of honourable play, politicians encourage others to risk their limbs in pursuit of fruitless causes while they remain secure in the safety of their pavilions. Cricketers deserve the rewards they get; the people get the politicians they deserve. Cricketers retire young; politicians go on for ever. Cricketers unite the country; politicians divide it. Cricketers accept the umpire's verdict even if they disagree with it; politicians who disagree with an umpire usually get him transferred. Cricketers stick to their team through victory and defeat, politicians in a losing team cross over and join the winning team. Clearly, cricketers are the better breed.
It is said that the task of a foreign minister is to lie effusively for his country abroad. That may be true, but it is certainly true that he has to fight for his country and defend it at all times. Our cricketers may recall that in the run-up to the 1995 World Cup , Australia refused to play a match in Colombo, citing security reasons. Shane Warne said he wouldn't come to Colombo because he couldn't do any shopping there. The press asked me for a comment. I said "shopping is for sissies". There was a storm of protest in Australia. A TV interviewer asked me whether I had ever played cricket. I said I had played before he was born - without helmets and thigh guards, on matting wickets that were full of holes and stones, and I had my share of broken bones to show it. My friend the Australian foreign minister was drawn into the fray and phoned me. We decided to cool things down. A combined India/Pakistan team came to Colombo at very short notice to play an exhibition match in place of the Australian match. It was a magnificent gesture of South Asian solidarity.
Against strong security advice I went on to the field to greet and thank our friends from India and Pakistan . When the whole episode was over I sent a bouquet of flowers to my Australian counterpart. Flowers are also for sissies.
I remember vividly the incident that occurred in Australia when Murali was called for throwing and Arjuna led his team to the boundary, in protest, but cleverly refrained from crossing it. I was watching TV in Colombo. As a past captain I asked myself what I would have done in Arjuna's place. In my mind I had no hesitation in supporting his decision. A few minutes later the phone rang. The President of the Board called to ask for advice. I said Arjuna was right because a captain must, on the field, stand up for his men and protect them, but the consequences must not be allowed to go too far; good lawyers must be engaged and a reasonable compromise must be reached. That was done.
During that tour I paid an official visit to Australia. My friend the Australian foreign minister in the course of a dinner speech invited me to go with him the next day to Adelaide , his home town, to watch the final day's play. I knew what the result was going to be. In my reply I said that at the end of the match I did not want to be the one to tell him that Australia had "won by a Hair". Accordingly, I went back home, as planned, to maintain the good relations that we have with Australia..
Foreign ministers sometimes find themselves in very difficult situations. Take the case of the Foreign Minister of Uganda. President Idi Amin told him that he wanted to change the name of Uganda to Idi. The minister was asked to canvas world opinion and return in two weeks. He did not do so. He was summoned and asked to explain. He said: "Mr. President, I have been informed that there is a country called Cyprus. Its citizens are called Cypriots, If we change the name of our country to 'Idi' our citizens would be called... “Idiots". Reason prevailed.
A story goes that a shark was asked why diplomats were his preferred food. He replied "because their brains being small are a tasty morsel, their spines being supple I can chew on them at leisure - and they come delightfully marinaded in alcohol."
Ladies and Gentlemen, as I approach the close of this brief address I wish to speak directly to our Sri Lankan team. Today we lost a match. But you lost to the rain and Duckworth and Lewis. You did not lose to England. Only a few weeks ago you had a resounding victory against South Africa. You will win again tomorrow. What is important is to keep up your confidence and spirits.
All of us, your fellow countrymen and women, have been enormously impressed in recent times by the commitment, discipline, athleticism and determination that you have displayed in the field. The people are with you. We all know that each and every one of you, are constantly busy honing your skills. We can see that you are maintaining a high standard of physical fitness. When the people see this it gives them not only immense pleasure but the moral upliftment that Sri Lankans are capable of in rising to the challenge of sustained performance.
Every team loses. It takes two to play a game. One has to lose. It is the manner in which you play the game which gives the promise of success to come. It is a great pleasure to see how youngsters are being drafted into the national team. Our team is united; it reflects all the races and religions of our country. Cricket, like all international sport today, is highly competitive; and so it must be, and so it must remain. It must always be regarded as a very high honour to represent one's country at any sport.
All of you are role models for our youth. They will be looking to see how you take defeat. To exult in victory is easy, to remain well balanced in defeat is a mark of maturity. Do not allow yourselves to be disturbed by the armchair critics who will no doubt engage in a display of theoretical learning on how the game was played. Many of these critics have never put bat to ball. It makes them feel good to indulge in the past time of amateur criticism. They do not know what it is to face fast bowling in fading light; to engage in a run race against daunting odds; to find the stamina and sheer physical endurance to spend concentrated hours in the field of play. They know nothing of the psychological pressure that modern sportsmen are subject to. Therefore, my advice to you is - ignore them. Go your way with customary discipline and methodical preparation for the next game, the next series in different parts of the world under different conditions.
For me it has been a great pleasure and an honour to be here with you tonight. When I was invited to be the Chief Guest at this occasion on my way to New York for the General Assembly of the United Nations, I accepted with eager anticipation of meeting our cricketers and relaxing for a moment.
Nobody told me that I had to make a speech, until last night when it dawned on me then that there is no such thing as a free dinner!"

Time To Introspect....

2011-03-08T22:12:00.004+05:30

There have been a few publicized crimes that have made my blood curdle. The Arushi murder case and the Aruna Shanbaug case are among them.

The Aruna Shanbaug case in particular gave me a lot of sleepless nights, in the run-up to the Supreme Court verdict on euthanasia.

It's indeed horrifying to read Aruna Shanbaug's story, a story of a violent twist to a fairy tale of hope, love and humble beginnings. The only question that lingers in my mind is how could a human be so brutal to rape the embodiment of hope.

What's sad is that the perpetrator of the crime walked away with just 7 years in jail, that too for assault and attempt to rob and not for the heinous crime that brought the pretty Aruna to this vegetative state.

The Supreme Court in its verdict has shaken the country's conscience by legalising euthanasia, but I wonder if it is human to let Aruna live, especially if she's not brain dead, as the doctors have testified. Imagine, if she still can think, she must be reliving the horror of that fateful night over 37 years back, that dashed her dreams. To have her relive that tragedy day after day for nearly 4 decades is a travesty of the basic principles of human justice.

But, the country has to doff its hats for the staff of King Edward Memorial Hospital, Bombay, who have tenderly taken care of Aruna for all these 4 decades.

As the world celebrates Women's Day, it is worth a debate whether India can let violators of the fairer sex get off lightly. In my opinion, such people deserve nothing less than a castration, followed by death, to prevent emboldening of wayward men.

But getting that legalised will be tough, when a number of our lawmakers themselves have blood on their balls. It is shameful to have had rapists like Taslimuddin heading union ministries and lawmakers who condone violations done post midnight.

I hope that the Honourable Supreme Court nudges the government into legislating watertight laws on rape.

It is indeed the time to introspect - what is the kind of society we need, one that looks the other way, while the crime is tolerated or one where respect for the fairer sex is recognised by law?

Votti (ਵੋੱਤੀ), Sotti (ਸੋੱਤੀ), ACL Tears and Getting Fit Again!

2011-02-28T21:24:00.002+05:30

After successfully poxing out the pox in August last year, I was again forced to be off everything (I mean that literally too!) in December again.

Towards the end of November, after having done a lot of travelling, I was drained and exhausted and a bit under the weather - just wanted to be off for a weekend at least, to sleep early, wake up late and just laze around. But as some Murphy's Law would have it, it was exactly then that we from office had to travel to Goa over the weekend for an offsite.

The super-lazy me wanted to drop out, but then super-wifey, Neeti, admonished me for my laziness, moralised on what is right and pepped me up. And then, the "right"-side of me woke up and I hurriedly packed to sleep in time for the early morning departure to Goa. Was that feeling that I should not go a premonition (of sorts) of a forthcoming event?

Goa was as lovely as could be. The early morning air was as fresh as it could be, the morning sun was warm and soothing but the icing on the cake was Dabolim Airport which was a spotters' delight - being the tourist high season, Dabolim's tiny remote parking bays were teeming with jets (with exotic liveries) from western Europe and Russia. Just as our Air India Airbus A321 was taxiing in, a Monarch Airlines Boeing 757 was being towed out. The board in the terminal showed an arrival from Yekaterinburg - Екатеринбург, the city infamous for the murders of the Romanovs in 1918, following the Russian Revolution, and that gave me an eeky feeling.

Soon we were on the tree lined road to our resort on Arossim Beach. My memories took me back to May 2006, my first time in Goa, when Neeti and I had a lovely time cycling on the same road.

The first day was pretty enjoyable with a number of fun filled activities and it went off before we thought it was over. The second day went off pretty well until we went into the last activity of the day - dodgeball. I was a bit exhausted after the whole day in the sun and felt like dropping out, but the rational side of me forced me to play. On one occasion, when I was inside the circle, I stumbled over a colleague as I attempted to avoid the ball which was coming towards me. And I fell on my right side, twisting my lower leg. But I got up and within seconds, I was back in the game, only to get out after a few minutes.

The evening passed by, and we went to a beachside shack for a party. I never realised anything was amiss until the next morning, when I was unable to move my leg - the knee was swollen. Somehow, after mustering all energy I managed to get ready to return back to Bombay. Getting on to the flight on the ladder was a task - it took me a full 5 minutes, but I was aided by my helpful colleagues, Suyez, Pankaj, Nilesh, Deepak, Rajnish and few others. On reaching home, my personal physician, Neeti, took charge of me - my knee was liberally coated with Volini and I was padded up with tight crepe bandage. We were convinced it was a minor sprain, which would heal up by morning. And then we called it a day!

The next day, a Monday morning, the situation had worsened, the pain was as intense as ever, and I was not in a position to move. And my in-house physician decided it was beyond her, so our ever helpful physician, Dr. Ullal was called. He suggested an immediate MRI scan of the knee, before we met him in his clinic. And we quickly rushed for scan. The scan began - I was strapped on the couch, which then moved in, into the tube and a series of jarring, creepy noises started. In all, it felt as though I was being abducted by an alien spaceship!

The results showed a tear in the anterior cruciate ligament (ACL), a critical ligament for stability of gait. On reviewing the report, Dr. Ullal classified this as a sports injury. In all the physical pain, that was a source of jest for Neeti and me - "How the hell can a lazybone like Rajeev get a sports injury?"

Dr. Ullal referred me to Dr. Dinshaw Pardiwala, a sports injury specialist, at the Kokilaben Dhirubhai Hospital and also was kind enough to speak to an administrative person at the hospital to facilitate an early appointment, as Dr. Pardiwala's appointments runs into a waitlist of upto a fortnight! Dr. Pardiwala recommended conservative treatment - no surgery, which relieved me. Immediately my leg was immobilised in a full-knee brace, with minimum movement, that too with a walking stick, which I never imagined I would ever use, at least before the twilight years set in.

Meanwhile, Neeti's Mom figured out that her ex-student, Dr. Jashan Vishwanath, was also an orthopaedic surgeon at Jaslok Hospital and suggested we meet him as well. That was quite useful as he reaffirmed that we were on the right track, but also suggested immediate physiotherapy to prevent muscles from wasting away, which was a distinct possibility.

My immobility made me quite a kid, and Neeti played parent to perfection - dressing me up, getting the shoes on, getting me food and all that was required. I remember the day I rejoined office two weeks after the accident, Neeti came with me downstairs to the car, just as a parent would go to see off a kid to the school bus!!!!

Then my folks came visiting. My Dad insisted on massaging the injured area himself, while Mom ensured an endless supply of great food to elevate my spirits!

In a few days, as recommended by the two doctors, my physiotherapy started - that helped to get the strength back in the limbs. My physiotherapy started under Heath Matthews and his team. Heath had treated quite a few Indian sports-persons and is a renowned name in that field. During the first session I had with him, he mentioned that Sania Mirza had a similar injury in 2007, but had recovered with conservative treatment, and went to achieve some success. That reassured me and also was another source of jest as Neeti often jocularly said that I was in the same league as Sania Mirza!!!!

Slowly and gradually, but convincingly, as the physiotherapy sessions by Heath and Shraddha progressed I limped back to normal. I gradually increased my time in office, started moving around at home and even went for a short vacation to Kodagu, which was covered in my photo-blog earlier, alongwith my folks, though Neeti's folks could not make it. There too we had our share of fun. The photographs that had Neeti, me and my stick were called votti (ਵੋੱਤੀ) and sotti (ਸੋੱਤੀ) photographs -- what a rhyming caption! The word, votti, means wife in Punjabi and sotti, stick!!! That became a joke in the family!!!

As my phsyiotherapy became intense, I was require to spend at least an hour in the gym. And then the next thing that started off in the family, initiated by who else but Neeti, that this was the only way to get lazybones of mine to exercise, a wake-up call! True, it was after nearly 3 years, and a few kilos of weight gain that I was getting back to serious exercising.

Religiously, I started going to the gym early in the morning, after a round of persistent persuasion by by my votti! And I have been doing the rounds of the gym regularly, with a few exceptions (yes, these were exceptions!). I did find that the seriousness was missing in most of the people visiting the gym. Most seemed to be there just to gossip, some to flirt with the supposedly, hot chicks, while the gym instructors would enjoy all the attention they got from the females. Some would spend just two minutes exercising, the next five minutes wiping off the sweat, and then gossiping around for the five minutes before getting back to the next round! Is that exercise? Perhaps, flirting and gossiping does burn a lot of calories, for some, at least.

My rounds to the gym, after intense persuasion by Neeti, and through weekly interventions by Heath and Shraddha, I have regained almost full functionality of my knee and all should be well in the next few months.

In a sense, my ACL injury was indeed a wakeup call - to eat right, sleep right and exercise right! I only pray that I have the strength to continue with my exercise regimen.