tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-170039532024-03-07T21:12:36.792+01:00sparkLife is not measured by the number of breathes we take, but by the number of moments that take our breath away...mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.comBlogger212125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-60388723056227974412011-11-09T20:23:00.003+01:002011-11-09T20:29:54.003+01:00ca va?Many years ago before the World War II, a blitzkrieg of German soldiers would come right up to the border in their Panzer tanks and turn their guns at a poor French farmer and shout…<br /><br /><em>"Entschuldigen Sie mich. Kann ich etwas Käse und Wein. Und Sie können meinen Porsche"</em><br /><em></em><br />To rather briefly put it the German would politely offer his Porsche for some good French wine and cheese…Unfortunately by the time the soldier finished his statement in deutsch which in these days would roughly take up 15GB of your hard disk, age would be catching up with the poor French farmer and the wine would have turned vintage!<br /><br />Out of sheer boredom and effort needed to have a conversation with the German, the Monsieur would curtly reply...<br /><br /><em>‘Oui’</em><br /><br />It was to no one’s surprise that in a few years Germany realised the importance of occupying France for strategic military reasons as mentioned in weekly newsletters issued by the third Reich... It was though an open secret in SS circles the strategic reasons were mainly cheese from Strasbourg and the wine from Bordeaux....<br /><br />Several years later a malayalee landed in that country for the same strategic reasons as the Germans did.... and voila he had no choice but to express his joy when he tasted the fine elixir in the most passionate way possible...So he did fold his mundu, toasted his glass high and waxed eloquently what he had memorised all along….<br /><br /><em>“Monsieur this wine is excellent…exceptionnelle !!!… céleste!!....it has the earthiness of Bordeaux and astringent after taste of a Cabernet sauvignon and yet sublimely robust with a tinge of cedar wood and unpretentious crispness of autumn air in Burgundy. A grapey finesse with a peppery flourish which discreetly emphasizes the opulent undertone of a citrus crust that succulently brings out the Joie de vivre every human aspires for…”</em><br /><br />Ofcourse as I said this the frenchman looked everybit the angry Gaul I had Imagined from Asterix comics… Either he was contemplating to use the french legion against me or the even greater humilation of running over me in a french made car.. Inspite of all the french sense of fashion and avant garde and other such sophisticated words which they are proud of, that is one thing they are really bad at…The Renault’s and the Peugoet’s were probably designed only with sole intent of packing as much groceries from Carrefour as possible... and the only reason why the world has forgiven them was coz of their cusine..<br /><br />I realised how seriously they took their food when I looked at the menu in a restaurant out here… They could pretty much convince you with vivid descriptions and exquisite phrases how delicious it is to eat sawdust if the wood is French!!<br /><br />There is nothing that can bring passion amongst the average Charles de and Gaulle as much as food does. For centuries they occupied countries in Africa and Asia and even took the effort of going to far away islands in pacific to steal the local cuisines. Ofcoz Algeria due to lack of parking spots in France but Pondicherry that was only for curd rice!! Infact several years ago, parts of France were declared as famine hit when there was a sudden shortage of caviar at a few Michelin starred restaurants in Paris … Well I must say a French man might after all die, but never of poverty...<br /><br />While the language is really pleasing to the ears, for someone who is attempting to try a few phrases like myself the consequences are disastrous...After spending several hours memorising phrases like <em>“Parlez vou Anglais</em>” (Do you speak English?), I have been quite lucky to see a wide variety of French facial expressions when I gallantly asked them… “<em>Poulet vou Anglais</em>” (Chicken do you English?)<br /><br />But I must admit, the French way of speaking French is very sweet…So its hard to make out what the mood of conversation actually is...Sometimes you think that a couple who seem to talk animatedly and loud in the street was probably saying very moving and romantic French lines from “Gone with the Wind”… only to realise after a few minutes that they would blow up like RDX coated popcorn generating enough power that sends those rockets to space from French Guyana…<br /><br />Hmm… and I know you must be wondering why hasn’t he yet talked about French ladies…Well there are days here when the sky is grey, gloomy and overcast… you read about massacres happening in Libya…project fails and system crashes at work…somebody tops your top score in flight control…. You lose money at the stock market…salary hikes become a myth… and one of those days while sitting alone in a restaurant looking forlorn outside … you see a petit mademoiselle with a sweet and warm smile walking towards to you…and quips…<br /><br />“Monsieur…Could you pass the salt? ”mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-11123104614886036602011-07-07T04:07:00.002+02:002011-07-07T04:11:57.169+02:00FOOD FOR THOUGHT...or…maybe NOT!<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; line-height:115%">“I am on a Diet “</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%">The moment I uttered it,my friend started laughing voraciously with a disdain usually reserved only when he hears something outrageously impossible and inconceivable… However I felt like he was laughing mockingly at the director of an intense and serious foreign language movie!! <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was insulting and hardly motivating for a guy who was hoping to get a tummy like Baba Ramdev’s!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; line-height:115%">“I am on a Diet “</span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%"> I vehemently thundered again thumping my fist down the desk…. But I was greeted again with a nonchalant response that was making a mockery of general practices to be followed in mockery. Not to be discouraged by such folks, I set a deadline for myself. It was my own Anna Hazare moment of truth.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I saw telebranding videos of a white <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">chettan</i> from Louisiana, USA speaking flawless Malayalam in Kairali TV and swinging sidewise flaunting his six packs. Along with him was a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">chedathi </i>who was showing a photo of another lady claiming it was herself one week ago. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Surprisingly she knew Malayalam and sounded less convincing to me because she had a heavy Thrissur accent and I haven’t really seen many blondes out there at the Round.What really discouraged me was the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">chettan </i>looked like someone who was still evolving into a human.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%">Meanwhile I searched for articles on how to lose weight in 7 days without exercising and without compromising on cheese burgers. That unfortunate day, Google failed me for the first time in my life….However I wondered how life is when people eat salads, throw away the egg yolk, buy a chocolate pastry and give that “OMG so many calories” look and actually read what is written behind milk cartons. So when I got a fruit bowl for breakfast I could sense somewhere deep down that I was doing something completely unnatural coz fruits as I knew until then was used only for making soaps natural. And a few days later I discovered a cruel and highly uncreative meal called the salad… A bowl which vaguely reminded me of the kitchen while Amma was cutting the veggies for an avial!!Folks who are not familiar with salad must know that it was used as a torture technique during the crusades. Believe me!! All those vegetables look good only in high definition television!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This brief attempt with fruits and salads resulted in cold turkey. I started hallucinating and behaving like a zombie… I would imagine fried <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">ethakkappams</i> and chicken <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">kebabs</i> floating around me…I insulted my friend Sam by addressing him as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Samosa</i> during a project meeting. At the canteen I longingly looked at the main course… the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">paneer</i> so near and yet so far….Maybe as they say revenge is a dish best served cold and no surprise if the cold turkey must have been the curse of a sizeable lineage of chickens, cows, goats which had an abrupt end thanks to me.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%">Not to shy away that easily I looked for inspiration in movies… There was a Sylvester Stallone in me who was jogging inMysore city streets at ungodly hours to the background music reminiscent of his “Rocky” training …I would symbolically raise my hands at 12<sup>th</sup> cross, Vijayanagar 2<sup>nd</sup> stage staring intensely at <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>chamundi hills only to be greeted by a few cows grazing early in the morning!!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Other days I felt like a man on a run…a la Forrest Gump but not cross country like in the movie where they hide reality…mine was inside the Taluk only and I drove back home in a car….I bought Nike track wear and started drinking Gatorade and it made me feel like Carl Lewis though maybe his pace was negligibly different…Towards the end of such a routine the uncanny resemblance with a panting dog made me realize why the wise men say it’s a dog’s life after all…<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%">In such a situation I sought solace in Jesus…I asked him for a sign….A sign that would tell me what to do….<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; line-height:115%">“Oh Lord, I am hungry!!” I clenched my palms and looked skywards…<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%">So when I walked into that book store I had no inkling of the mysterious ways the lord works…<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%">I glanced at a book…”<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Eat, Pray and Love</i>” which during that moment of enlightenment read...”Eat, Eat and Eat”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%">That was a sign and I knew it… And then there was another sign as I kept roaming in the bookstore…<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; line-height:115%">“Who moved my Cheese…?”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%">Oh Lord, you even tell me what to eat!!Cheese Burger right? Your mysterious ways!!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%">My joy knew no bound as I started running out to the streets…<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Faces crossed my mind…Baba Ramdev...Rocky Balboa….Maybe it’s another sign I thought…. After pacifying myself I returned home consoling that maybe after all there is nothing like a free lunch … or in my case fat-free lunch!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%">And a few days back as I strolled by M.G Road Bangalore, I saw a bespectacled man wearing a bow tie at a distance…He seemed to be the kind who gives one of those offer you cannot refuse…His shop was buzzing with friends curiously dipping hands in oversized red buckets ….I stared longingly through the glass window of the KFC outlet….but then a poem crossed my mind…<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left:36.0pt"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt">The drumsticks are crunchy, golden, and delicious,<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left:36.0pt"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt">But I have promises to keep,<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left:36.0pt"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt">And calories to burn before I sleep,<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left:36.0pt"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt">And calories to burn before I sleep<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%">Well...umm….Maybe the in’fat’uation would last for a while…<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-24027352630004678842011-05-29T09:45:00.000+02:002011-05-29T09:46:19.373+02:00Barley and Me<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><b><br /></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;line-height:115%">A couple of months ago at Munich, Germany.....<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;line-height:115%">Sunday Mornings are often colder than weekdays and the process of getting out of bed makes you act like a tortoise who is not interested in any kind of race for that matter! However as a true devout whose commitment was unquestionable, I did not think twice before waking up when the clock struck six...<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;line-height:115%">It was dark and chilly outside...It does not matter when your faith is strong and unwavering....I took a quick shower as the urge to get there as soon as possible was overwhelming...At 6:30 am I started my brisk walk towards the holy place… It was overwhelming to be part of the august gathering of people who were marching along to offer glowering tributes at the shrine...It actually reminded me of what it really means to be part of it...About sharing happiness and sadness...about touching people’s lives...and about forgetting... Being someone who hates to be late, I was glad that I could sit right in front along with passionate gathering... Glancing at the faces around me I realised how over blown were talks of atheist’s taking over the world... There was a collective sense of hope...and an electric vibrancy in the air...I wondered, wasn’t it amazing that thousands of people sacrificed a lazy sunday morning to be part of this offering...to be part of something truly special...At precisely 8:30 am after a long wait, when the first german frau wearing a dirndl and holding 8 mugs of beer arrived...ten thousand devotees from around the world at a beer tent for Oktoberfest had the widest glee’s in the whole world!! <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;line-height:115%">PROST!!!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;line-height:115%">The crowd roared in unison… The blessed moment we all waited anxiously had truly arrived.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;line-height:115%">Oktoberfest is as important to Bavarians as yeast is to Bread! The annual event which attracts the faithful from around the world does bear justice to the magnetic reputation it has. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I had tried to get into one of those tents with my friends on a Saturday morning and we had to return disappointed as we underestimated the strength of people who took the pilgrimage…So it was with brahminical devotion that we made our second attempt that Sunday morning. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>What makes Oktoberfest amazing is the fact that it proves wrong a myth that Germans are cold (well the beer is…</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-char-type:symbol; mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"><span style="mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings">J</span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;line-height: 115%">), unsocial and hard to have fun with… I can imagine why Oktoberfest may not be as great in a place like Brazil coz we expect the Brazilians to be fun loving people… The first Mass (1L mug of beer) is drunk by the locals with all the stereotypes typically attached to Germans… People talk in hushed tones at the tables as if they were discussing the second quarter results of an IT firm! <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The first Mass is usual the tonic what the Germans need to shed that inhibition to talk to strangers and start singing and dancing.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;line-height:115%"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Besides your friends you would often have random strangers sitting beside you...In the beginning the strangers start talking to you in German and you reply in a mix of broken German and English...However after the second Mass I faintly remember that we had a deep and intellectually stimulating conversation in Malayalam... Schmidt chetta, if you are reading this, Kottayam is not a 10 minutes bus ride from Bombay as I had claimed that day.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;line-height:115%"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Although I don’t remember much of Schmidt, I do remember the beautiful german ladies whose appetite for beer can only be topped by Kalmadisque penchant for buying expensive refrigerators!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Most of the local girls wear the German version of chattayum mundum called the Dirndl which actually is cool and pretty. And the guys wear the lederhosen which can make your Levis denim look cheap...As the drinking and the music continues you could occasionally see some daredevils grabbing the attention of everyone in the tent and proclaiming his/her attempts to drink the one litre mass in a single gulp which is by no means a small feat...The crowd cheers such daredevils but usually fizzles into good hearted boos when they fail... The local Bavarians look at in amusement when outsider’s attempt that and fail gloriously and later as a sort of vindication they show the tourist’s how it is done...Believe me these guys have tummy’s as big as a fuel tank of a decent sedan.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;line-height:115%"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The mood in the tent gets progressively jovial over time and the real fun starts when the music begins...Almost everyone in the tent are up on the benches with hands on each other’s shoulders and sing passionately beer songs...<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt">“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Allee Allee Allee Allee Allee<o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNoSpacing"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>eine Straße, viele Bäume, <o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNoSpacing"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>ja das ist eine Allee<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNoSpacing"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Allee Allee Allee Allee</span><span lang="EN-GB">”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;line-height:115%">It is an amazing feeling when a group of people who did not know each other a few hours ago start showing camaraderie like they were best buddies in town...People take photos with each other bridging nationalities and although there are sporadic cases of bad drinker’s creating havoc, most people in general are jovially happy and soaking the moment...The beer girl’s (actually middle aged women) make sure that the ale is supplied at the tables with precision typical of Germans. You look at in awe how they hold 8-10 glass mugs each containing a litre of beer which is a feat in itself...Besides the beer they make sure that the revellers are supplied with roasted chickens, steaks and pretzels... It was really hard for us to leave the tent afternoon as the atmosphere is something which you don’t want to run away from...Unfortunately we had to catch the train to Hamburg and we did not want to end up as beer corpses<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>(as the locals describe the passed out fellas).<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;line-height:115%"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Over the years and places I have been in Germany, it was easily one of the best experiences I had...As we came out of the tents and marched to the exit, I thanked the beer gods for the pilgrimage I could make... The satisfaction of being at the holiest of shrines…of having tasted the beer which might have inspired hundreds of poets and writers…Schmidt did tell me that I am a blessed man having come all the way from Kottayam…duh...He was drunk it seems!!….But as I strolled out, the true sign of being blessed was charmingly displayed in that outrageously zigzag spaghetti walk to the train station…or as I prefer to call it ….my Beer Ballet!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:10.0pt;line-height:115%"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-27415665290209743762011-05-09T15:04:00.000+02:002011-05-09T15:11:09.102+02:00COVER POINT<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto;text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><i><br /></i></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“The bitch will behave nicely today and looks a lot better than the bitches we have seen in the country.” </span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin">Although I was startled for a few minutes to hear this on primetime television while I was making tea in the kitchen, it brought immediate relief when I heard the next sentence…<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“The bitch will have something for both the batsman and the bowler”</span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin">First I wondered whether it was my new TV who’s crystal clear and some Ph.D. lingo technology was working way too precise for comfort. But later when I saw Sivaramakrishnan the commentator still praising the bitch I kinda assumed it was the bitch of his tone which was creating all the trouble...And as marketer’s try hard to sustain the interest in cricket from the giddy successes of world cup and however I try, the whole IPL feels like a bad hangover … or rather a drink too soon after a binge party!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I had managed to insulate myself from the advertising blitzkrieg by subscribing to the HD telecast and I saved myself the trauma of watching Akshay Kumar who seemed to have tried a thousand times to say Mannapuram Gold and failed miserably at it…I was equally glad that I could skip those Idea-No Idea ad’s where creativity was as lacking as hair on post-world cup Dhoni…While the telecast did not save me from the Sidhu talk which probably was like one of those sufferings you go through to finally enjoy the good things in life, I really enjoyed watching the World Cup on TV.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Since I had never here been during IPL in the past years, I really wanted to watch atleast a few matches to get the gist of it. Infact what amused me more than cricket was the marketing machinery which displayed endorsements that could actually bring more than a chuckle …It was amazing to see the plethora of sponsors ranging from cement manufacturers, marble sellers, liquor makers and even tea manufacturers. Well infact the sponsors also taught me that White Mischief was a cheer leading group and not a detergent manufacturer as I presumed. At times you would see one of those “Thank you *tournament sponsor* for everything!” placards and wonder…Seriously? It’s like a Mc Donald’s ‘I ‘m loving it’ ad in an Udupi restaurant!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin">For many cricketers from abroad the IPL is more like the onsite trip folks in IT would love to have… I can imagine KieronPollard’s mom packing tortilla chips and himself smuggling in a good bottle of Jamaican rum when he left the West Indies shores. After a few weeks in India he would upload pictures in Facebook with Album names like “Rocking in Fort Kochi” and photos of him probably eating naan and butter chicken at Mohali...Status updates like “Missing Barbara” instead of Barbados would make sure his relationship got fireworks.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin">As these phoren cricketers take work in IPL, we can see that jobs are lost back home.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Offshoring meant that expensive local talent lost job and had to engage in alternative professions like commentary! On the bright side some visitors did really indianize beyond recognition… Shane Thakur Warner has got such a tan now that he can camouflage easily in the Rajasthan deserts. Cameron White even got his name changed to Cameron Brown. And so can Vettori easily pass of as the tired and overworked resident doctor at St. John’s medical college. Lasith Malinga whose hair locks are considered a national asset in Sri Lanka and infact even causes the stock markets to plunge every time he passes by a hair salon has now become part of folklore in Mumbai.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin">But alas after a few matches in IPL I think I have had enough of it…It has now become like the 8<sup>th</sup> season of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. You know it was good in the beginning and now getting somewhat ho-hum…There is something discernibly lacking in how the game is showcased this time around…Or maybe am someone who likes the good old test cricket with its broad culinary experience involving lunch, drinks, tea and all…team jersey’s devoid of the overdose of advertisements and where passion amongst the cricketers are real and where the lady at home could do some bpitch talk with her friend about a husband who spends five days watching cricket all day…….. Have a nice week ahead folks! :)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin"> </span></p>mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-54872345269749890102011-05-03T13:50:00.002+02:002011-05-03T13:56:53.735+02:00Genesis- The true story<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US">Place: Somewhere in <st1:place st="on">Middle East</st1:place>.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US">Time: A couple of thousand years ago…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span>It was a weekend and actually one of the first considering the almighty himself had only recently declared it so… And after Adam reached <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>home from work and plonked himself on the couch at his cave aptly called Legend of Rocks, he uttered what several billion people did ever since…”Thank God its Friday!!” But before he could grab a bottle of home made beer which he had carefully brewed, someone shouted from inside…. who else could it be...but Eve………</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span>Eve: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">“Adam…Honey...lets go shopping...we are running out of fruits”</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US">Adam<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">: “oh…c’mon...can’t we just order it from heavenbay.com”</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US">Eve: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">you don’t understand Adam…we need to have something fresh…bio-fresh...could you just get ready fast!!”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></i>Eve pestered and coyly managed to get Adam drop his weekend plans…</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span>Adam: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Okay...if you say so sweetheart…”</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></i>Getting ready was easy those times as nobody had to change clothes after getting back from work. Life was so different from current times…Those days Man and Woman took the same time to get ready….But there was a minor aberration that day…</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span lang="EN-US">Adam: “Did you see my fig leaves somewhere??”</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US">Eve: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Eh…why do you need them anyways??”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US">Adam: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">“I just get the feeling we might need em today!!”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US">Eve:<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"> “okie dokie…it must be somewhere...i ll get it”</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span>After walking a couple of kilometers….they sighted a beautiful gate above which was written.…</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US">“The Garden of Eden” *Today’s offer…Apples!!*</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US">Eve’s joy knew no bound and she pestered Adam to the shop…But Adam reminded her of the fatwa issued by the almighty…But in an unprecedented move they went inside and plucked an apple. Life changed ever after. This historic shop lifting incident documented in a holy book gives insights into why women love shopping and men don’t.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US">Over thousands of years the fig leaves graduated to products from L’Oreal and wardrobes from </span><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">Louis Vuitton. Men were forced to buy products from Gillette and had to stop hunting for wild boars under the pretext of wildlife protection. These drastic evolutionary changes also resulted in man adapting to the new way of life. God who was very well aware of the plight men were going through did occasionally make products like I-phone, Bluetooth headsets and play stations. Though I believe those were mere ploys to make men come of their caves.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I have had the" joy" of shopping (hic hic) with woman of all ages starting from kids, to friends and my mom. And each expedition only left me bewildered about this ritual called shopping and associated social conventions... The sort of magnetic attraction which effortlessly bring a lady close to a product at the shop shelf has not been construed inspite of widespread attempts to explain so...Infact Noam Chomsky considers it as the most fascinating phenomena and ranks it close to “The Big Bang Theory” among<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>controversial topics of all times. So next time guys, when you go shopping with someone and end up bewildered thinking why it happened to you… Don’t try to fight it… It is a phenomenon which has been entrenched and perfected over centuries …right from the days of Adam and Eve… Surrender yourself to it....</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-11947721405398328952011-04-15T18:27:00.001+02:002011-04-15T18:31:29.060+02:00The easy guide book for a mallu to become a dude!!<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Several eons ago, fashionable people imitating Elvis Presley roamed the streets in a land called Kerala…Polka dotted shirts with designs that appeared like carbon covalent bonds and side burns that would have rendered contemporary shavers useless were sported generously by our older generation…. Though with a slight difference coz the malayalee Elvis was shorter and he was not Caucasian…That made Babumon rather an overweight Boney M with a moustache…<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">Circa 21<sup>st</sup> century….</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">The mallu aspiration that once made <i>Babumon</i> a Boney M and that made <i>Mariamma chedathy</i> a Marilyn Monroe is making a comeback…This time with a renewed vigor among the malayalee youth aiming to be the uber-alpha-metrosexual dude …Considering the entrepreneurs malayalees are, institutes have sprouted wide across the state which point to be noted, claim to be better than IIM’s….These institutes boasting a faculty having a dudeness oomph unheard of have instructional course designed for all categories of mallus…Pure 24 carat mallus to NRK’s to NRI’s….The institutes guarantee on successful completion of the course, the dude(previously mallu) can be proved mallu only if he is made to come near a plate of beef fry.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">Hear what Eddie (previously Idiculla Thomas) who passed out in 2003 has to say…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">“The Dude Institute has changed my life….There used to be a time in my life when I was so desperate to be a dude that it almost drove me to the verge of suicide... I am thankful to institute principal for giving me confidence to live again.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">Clara, a recent graduate gets emotional when asked...</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-US">“No….please don’t ask me about it…being a dudette was all I wanted to be…My ammachi is so proud of me now!!.” </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-style: normal">She replied wiping tears of her cheeks.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">After a lot of deliberations the course director and renowned dude Tommy gave a brief insight about the high profile program…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">Each participant on submitting the entire fees has to submit his/her passports and all kinds of identity information. The in-house agents would provide the candidate a complete new identity. Taking a stroll down the institute Tommy introduced us to some of his students…Chacko from Cheruplassery was now Chuck from Charlotte Town, Ousepachan from Idukki was now Bob from Idaho and it was not surprising to meet a Tracy from Panama city who apparently once was Thressiakutty from Pathamanathitta!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">The resident English language instructor mentioned to us that trainees are punished severely for using malayalam phrases like… <i>ente eeshoyeee...ente Velankanni maathaavei...bhagavathi...ente ammo…</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >While they are encouraged to use english exclamations like oops, ouch and schmuck liberally.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">Another situation which dude has to be careful is when a dude meets another dude. This is especially important when you are meeting the other dude after a long time…Such dude-dude situations have to be handled with care. <i>Sthalee ithu aaru...Machu kore naalu aayallo...aliyaa nee evide aayirunnu…</i>are replaced with...<i>yoo man…wassup….Such a pleasure to meet you…howdy man</i>….</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">Besides the language a dude has to be surrounded by entirely new set of gadgets and stationeries and use new naming conventions…Trainess are encouraged to use the new names like...</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span></p> <ul style="margin-top:0cm" type="disc"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo1; tab-stops:list 36.0pt left 82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Tuvaalaa >> tissues<o:p></o:p></span></span></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo1; tab-stops:list 36.0pt left 82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Pants >> trousers<o:p></o:p></span></span></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo1; tab-stops:list 36.0pt left 82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Kaapi >>> Cappuccino<o:p></o:p></span></span></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo1; tab-stops:list 36.0pt left 82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Dosa >>> crepe<o:p></o:p></span></span></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo1; tab-stops:list 36.0pt left 82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Puthappu >>> bedcover<o:p></o:p></span></span></li> </ul> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">The dude will not henceforth use the following products…</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "> </span></p> <ul style="margin-top:0cm" type="disc"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-list:l3 level1 lfo2; tab-stops:list 36.0pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Lifebuoy soap<o:p></o:p></span></span></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-list:l3 level1 lfo2; tab-stops:list 36.0pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Godrej shaving box<o:p></o:p></span></span></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-list:l3 level1 lfo2; tab-stops:list 36.0pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Ummukiri<o:p></o:p></span></span></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-list:l3 level1 lfo2; tab-stops:list 36.0pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Blade<o:p></o:p></span></span></li> </ul> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">The dude is strictly restricted from having a mustache or a beard….Unless if it is of specific nature like a goatee….. The dude cannot have a hairstyle which has got a parting line… The dude cannot wear rubber chappals…The dude has to burn away all his lungis in a ritual which is done on the third month of the course…..A dude will have to make some major dietary changes…</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">The dude’s favorite dishes now include…Salad’s, low fat milk, the mandatory burger and pizza…</span></p> <h2 style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US" style="text-decoration:none;text-underline:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">And the dude has definitely not heard any of these…</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></h2> <ul style="margin-top:0cm" type="disc"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-list:l1 level1 lfo3; tab-stops:list 36.0pt left 82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Cabbage thoran<o:p></o:p></span></span></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-list:l1 level1 lfo3; tab-stops:list 36.0pt left 82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Pulisseri<o:p></o:p></span></span></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-list:l1 level1 lfo3; tab-stops:list 36.0pt left 82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Parippu vada<o:p></o:p></span></span></li> </ul> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">The dude has to be extremely careful while mentioning his/her favorite books…The dude books are usually…</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "> </span></p> <ul style="margin-top:0cm" type="disc"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo4; tab-stops:list 36.0pt left 82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Ayn Rand<o:p></o:p></span></span></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo4; tab-stops:list 36.0pt left 82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Dostoevsky<o:p></o:p></span></span></li> </ul> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">And a Dude definitely does not read..</span></p> <ul style="margin-top:0cm" type="disc"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-list:l4 level1 lfo5; tab-stops:list 36.0pt left 82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Balarama<o:p></o:p></span></span></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-list:l4 level1 lfo5; tab-stops:list 36.0pt left 82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Malayala Manorama<o:p></o:p></span></span></li> </ul> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">By the sixth month the mallu has already transformed into a 80% dude. The remaining 20% is all about practice…The way you walk, the way you talk…</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Put both your hands inside the jeans pocket while you walk..<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Wear over-sized T shirts preferably with a picture of a black rap singer.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" >While walking, do it like you have a painful sore on one feet which moves to the other feet after a step.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">If you follow the above methods you can reinvent yourself as a cool dude ….Our research have shown that we can transform themselves into highly sophisticated human dudes following the above procedure… On successful completion of the course, the dude would be given the honorary dude certification by the chairman of the dude board himself…The prestigious Salim Kumar dude scholarship would be awarded to the most outstanding dude of the batch in a glittering ceremony at the dude university..</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">If you find the dude course useful, kindly sponsor a desperate mallu so that he could become a dude as well…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.5pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.5pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span lang="EN-US">Happy weekend to all dudes and dudette’s!! </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Wingdings; ">J</span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></p>mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-37047710516397429792011-04-10T14:05:00.001+02:002011-04-10T14:05:49.530+02:00To a new beginning.....<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US">When I started blogging, I was fascinated by the space and its ability to reach out to people around the world...Its ability to find people who shared similar thoughts...Infact I loved the media so much that I really did not imagine that I would hit a road block in blogging someday…<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Unlike many who had stopped blogging as a conscious decision the reasons why this space hit a halt was a landslide of several reasons… There has been drastic changes in my life since the last time I blogged…The times I have blogged from 2006 till 2010 were times when I had probably the peak happiness in my life…I was someone who hadn’t really anything much to worry about and most days were generally joy filled…well ofcoz there was periodic disappointments of reasons subtle to not so subtle…ofcoz there was the joy of meeting new people to the heartbreak of knowing that a crush was already seeing someone…there was the adventure of cooking dinners, of seeing new places, of laughing over a beer, playing Jenga with friends to tragic failures in learning new languages, unfortunate or delightful stories from friends and likewise…<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And all these incidents were fodder for me to keep blogging… Then 2010 happened!!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Although I had stopped blogging sometime in beginning of 2010 it was due to sheer laziness and the fact that I was getting quite busy at work around then…In the summer of 2010 while I was enjoying a vacation with my close friends from Hamburg at an island in the north sea (Rugen), I received the call from my cousin who delivered a news I feared the most… And then from that day nothing has been same for me… I hurried back home in India to meet my family … I don’t remember a journey as excruciating painful as my flight from Hamburg to Trivandrum and I was probably too over struck by shock that I can barely express it in words… My dad’s demise in a car accident on May 21<sup>st</sup> was like a big arresting stop in my journey of life… I don’t think I have to tell how I felt during that day and the following weeks as I believe it not something you can really explain…you just have to go through it…I was lucky that I had really good friends in Hamburg who gave me the strength in the hour of need and to my beloved relatives back home who played a huge part in my personal recovery…After 3 and half weeks I returned to Hamburg…I wanted to be alone…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I am usually a person who keeps all my emotions with myself and rarely share it with anyone unless am absolutely comfortable with that person… The physical and emotional toll of the few weeks made me really sick and I was bed ridden in Hamburg for a few days..The following weeks I was going through periodic depression and an urgency to withdraw from all sorts of social contact with people I knew… I had become some kind of a social loner and it was necessary for me…Atleast that’s what I felt around then…My behavior was ofcoz weird to my close friends and family as I can presume...But the period also taught me how to fight and be strong…. This was probably the lowest ebb in my life and I needed self conviction to fight it…The period also helped me to know the people who really mattered to me…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My friends out there who made sure that I did not sulk and stay at home all the time…friends who took care of me when I was sick…family who used to call me to check on me….My biggest reassurance or tonic for my recovery was how my mom and brother were doing…It was a huge relief for me when I saw them pulling the strings back…Infact I think that’s the most beautiful aspect of a relationship in a family….The relief you get from your loved ones recovering helps you the same…Infact when all do it for each other…the collective recovery is faster… I have to particularly mention two of my friends in Hamburg S&J who took me as part of their family and made me feel like I was not alone… And new friendships came from unexpected quarters when a spanish neighbor of mine became a very close friend to whom I could express my fears, disappointments…etc… It was a liberating feeling for me who usually tries to keep a cocoon around myself from expressing to friends what I truly felt … </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Although people say time heals things… and my general optimistic nature should have helped me, I was going through something that needed something beyond that…and am thankful to all the people around me for giving the much needed relief…I need to mention a lot of my blog friends/readers who checked on me and encouraged me to get back to blogging…I don’t have to mention names here as I know they themselves know it…I have shifted from Hamburg to Mysore last December..am back at my old workplace and have settled here…I miss my friends in Hamburg a lot as I realize that they can never be replaced…Getting used to rigours of work life in India is a bit intimidating after the relatively balanced style in Germany and the difficulty for someone to get used to the ‘indian way’ of life was not exactly smooth after such a long gap. (The difficulty often misconstrued as arrogance from a foreign-returned in our parlance is quite natural and I really have to walk a tight rope to make sure people don’t think otherwise )… After a few months now in Mysore, I am much more comfortable than when I had landed in town… Even though the residual romantic love for Hamburg still remains, I am counting on starting a new life in India with new friends and happier times…I have promises to keep…And I believe the first thing I need to do was get back to blogging which is one of my first loves besides Frasier and pencil sketching ofcoz..:)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I would like to express my sincere apologies to all friends and family with whom I have not been my usual self…. I have not replied emails from many of my friends and family during this past year due to my indifferent nature … I hope you can understand and forgive me for the same.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I would like to stop for the time being with a favourite quote from Emily Dickenson...</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span lang="EN-US">“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tunes without the words and never stops at all." <o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></span></p>mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-6632112795088683922010-05-14T15:44:00.021+02:002010-05-14T16:19:45.406+02:00Polska..<div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcX0TQBXb61KyqBbXvFWOUHb3BrYnzL9S6mLoUccvnU6RzmPTPP8yPCsBiAj5wZQ-fr-dd35QlXlgLlu3bgpoOPFIv5xPyo5f0P99FDj1MqT1NbOb0yNvKi5pjaaA6mKAqxgZR/s1600/19.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471125135417798562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcX0TQBXb61KyqBbXvFWOUHb3BrYnzL9S6mLoUccvnU6RzmPTPP8yPCsBiAj5wZQ-fr-dd35QlXlgLlu3bgpoOPFIv5xPyo5f0P99FDj1MqT1NbOb0yNvKi5pjaaA6mKAqxgZR/s400/19.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>More than a month ago I embarked on a trip with a friend to a country less frequented in usual tourist escapades…Poland….A country which had its share of tragedies and which was rebuild on both stones and souls, bricks and aspirations over time….There is something about this country which is unique…It has faced twin tragedies…the world war II and a long communist rule…Both of which had significant impacts on the life of people there. My desire to visit Poland goes a long way back since the time I watched movies like Schindler’s list and The Pianist. Part of it had to do with a personal desire to have a pilgrimage to the place where millions of people died in a manner unimaginable to us and suffered consequences of a Nazi plunderage the testimonies of which exist till date. And then there was a side of Poland which managed to hide its charming and beautiful past in the lovely town of Krakow where the churches and castles did manage to survive the rampage going on elsewhere. I had good polish friends back in Hamburg and probably it endeared me with the country as well.<br /><br />My trip started from the city of Warsaw which had completely been rebuilt after a particularly devastation carpet bombing which had flattened the famous Warsaw ghetto in a lethal dominos game played by Nazi Luftwaffe. Our first stop was a relic from the soviet past called the Center of culture and Science. A typical soviet architecture which starkly did not gel with the city skyline and ofcoz the place was presumably boring.<br /><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471121315932090530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibkY6_UmTZYfle4kn27eJhZTLKBlPUZ28qRvGirNURuT3pYOu1RLr_6LSzkW7IjngzMfjn0Iri6GqezHIZRkCaHlqjYJqeZThVBqsZYGXsKpbKdyEU1gKrJdDy8R93bhN4qk3R/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /><br />Maybe it helped actually to enhance the charm of our next destination. The old Jewish town. </div><br /><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471121430809864418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq9aE6trjaRj6lIwfc9W2ift40P_KTv4LfYlZxSW7-oc3avafy2iB4urRdc9ZUroMmar1JlLqaFVim0ksGWScYuV9Sfon_nzq9X4ID4kxZyI-nUkxGMHhMr0gIWpHsKbm3S1HT/s400/2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471121506954377058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 264px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6SJpuGHZmYPbVUrUwmeMobQysn7kg8LFSJsUfjbRS2nUVS9vnj2rlKAOozWIkGK1dOZ8YbNeVY__aT2mKBuo-Wfoi8ow_ovoOvapUpnf5GJU8uLZ7RIYMX79wCcTeqiKiXAcV/s400/3.jpg" border="0" /><br />The pastel color buildings and the vast open square or rather a triangle with the palace façade on the right was outright impressive. An ideal place to bask on a sunny day listening to sounds of the horses galloping along the cobbled stoned path. (Of course you should be good at temporarily holding your breath when they go by).<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471121613373620914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA00g16sEqgXAAMzbngEGj3mSBklPL0HWTS7szOq5oPvr0uXfKivFN7LZd0Wkun0XEH5JqceKf03_cP_TFrgpoGvnDdQjx27YmyHXndBnBY0FgkzMv5GhTFjRgqWhVtR5aweMN/s400/4.jpg" border="0" /><br />The best part of visiting this part of town is unlike in Western Europe where such a place would be thronged by hundreds of tourists the place was fairly less crowded. This is arguably the most charming part of Warsaw where café’s and bistro’s seamlessly exist along with shops selling amber and tourist memorabilia. And as common in most of Europe you would find street artists selling their skills and wares or an odd musician playing his violin and in the backdrop dogs having merry along with children. It is a temporary transportation to things we calls, beautiful in life for the brief moment you spending in a charming place like this.<br /><br /><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471122006894151682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5d2YNIxCxpa8RPg2-kG90BZH09LImPuIELqE4ZWHMRoaDp1Cdk86bNlbDRJHyt8zNCxoIQTdbpGYUZJiQMRHygbMow_oxNb1rJ4PpVU2y7S6nA0JdC-pWZBG_vofSbeNqrhIB/s400/5.jpg" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471125397089798418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6y5-yOnx33yqwhnqgwhGKjCDLm_q_JpgLN-d0r1g31XV8qZVBYFm57Ucf8wZ7aAtutV0pqn9BFuxilf3vWZ_4XJO_dxcstIcTrdAoduRJYdn_KQHAx43vN7ufAdVodO8XU1Cr/s400/20.jpg" border="0" /><br />Splurging is not easy for most budget travelers in Europe and surprisingly Poland is an exception. The weaker currency (zlotys, 1 EUR=8 zlotys) allowed us to splurge on luxurious hotels and restaurants which otherwise is unaffordable somewhere like in Germany.<br /><br />The next day we packed our bags early in the morning to Krakow. Our first destination was Auschwitz. </div><br /><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471121784917842978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-h7GRwet2YCP76k1SJbPqrdh_BJ7hVUdn2lhIgLXMznp9vGxAcXa0E8QUtFGILZpY1gV4st-el6MdG9wc2mUPi9mQZHsl7UDBsggrytAyVrWstkOoMEA4Y1pUXwBLyF3JVsRG/s400/6.jpg" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471122136330761170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFcvLzkluxzzKYZsBiSY54ho4-QRg0468liGTEal-U6V2OAEE9NcSEAq-_46lbbfyKljU8DiXCCXx1rmLZu9jDhltYXkFeX-5P8dbjo96xo07rGuHFkss8ZHr5mhzVTk3iXn5d/s400/7.jpg" border="0" /><br />I suppose most of you know about <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Auschwitz_concentration_camp">Auschwitz-Birkenau </a>which was the ground zero for Nazi crime. Please read the hyperlink if otherwise. Auschwitz is a good hour and half drive from Krakow and by the time we reached the place from Warsaw it was almost noon. When you visit a place like this you should be prepared that you are going to see something sad. I cannot imagine anyone going in to this place just as a tourist and not coming out unscathed or emotionally exhausted. As I entered through the same gates where millions walked in not to return you realize that you are entering a place that would forever be etched in human history. ARBEIT MACHT FREI the sign says…..(Work liberates you). A cruel irony indeed!<br /><br />The concentration camp in Auschwitz actually exists in two different camps. The Auschwitz which is the smaller camp and Birkenau the bigger one where most people were actually exterminated. It takes atleast 3 hours to walk inside Auschwitz entering each rooms where we actually see what happened back then. Believe me..I think no body talked much inside the place coz its hard to….Cameras don’t come out easily partly due to the absurdity of taking pictures here and to a extend because you wouldn’t want to see them again and again. When you see those holocaust movies its true that they touch you. But it’s a different ball game when you actually see those heaps of glasses, toys , clothes, kitchen utensils, human hair etc heaped into gigantic glass containers for visitors to see. I would prefer to skip detailing the Auschwitz part of the trip.<br /><br />Our next spot was the Birkenau camp.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471122234597287218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 217px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTeRdRcRXTVbjIQu4CiOE0-H18EiayGbEwu1yiMYPqMQBTC0Rbhit4kljAjq-69kJ7AW0_8VNlsNWvN9qDyz9aY4giHqmtlZh9j-7MzaqQfUuK2diPeVazbI2tI3jeBAvmhq_3/s400/8.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471122360059688290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 202px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxJorF4NO3wifAjIc4GbhrmZk3bh2jRxwk_CfIL4RQGinDhcF2qtZWWK4oxR0FWVL00sQAqcANDXXnoSNQ_shOgcjEupP57okDFIrlP9ocbxDGufSeDd5oQ3oW5Ev0DOs-8FA2/s400/9.jpg" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471122589137101570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 369px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtR8jt2zQDULFqSPN7wjVDZRWpc6OPTKSHQmPTpENPmAa0eRHIs37CF28gCYmecD4BvA91D2qB1WE1tbZrYBGfYASRM3bgAwQnQKMLg5QfC4u9ucBhcy7p9rmb93W6v3OeBjq9/s400/10.jpg" border="0" /><br />Folks who have see the movie “Life is beautiful” might be able to recognize these famous rail gates.<br /><br />Auschwitz makes you realize what the Nazis did to the Jews, homosexuals, disabled and others. But Birkenau makes you realize the true scale of it. The camp is so vast and seeming to end nowhere. Only few remnants of the crematoriums remain. But you get an idea how big it was. At one end of the camp you will find this.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471122731529168050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 258px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-7mhIUI_9_ro773TCkcKgdJbNIqp0kSMvMBQN-v0BS8fDS9njI01r9Fu3l9rdtr-r-e3dQowdVmfdSrfublEETZpTilv9pP3o80v9TQ54U_8yFp9-458_zft5zv7fbCUfDGEE/s400/11.jpg" border="0" /><br />Walking around this place I got a feeling that the ground was soft...almost cushion like…which actually gave me goose bumps when I though about why it might be…We spend a hour here as well and walked along the rails back to the exit. And then embarked on the drive back to Krakow.<br /><br />Reaching Krakow at dusk we retired to our rooms quite early. I don’t think it would have been a good idea to enjoy Krakow just after a trip to Auschwitz.<br /><br />The next day our exploration of Krakow began. Hired a golf cab for a ridiculous price and started the hip hop tour. Visited the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kazimierz">Kazimierz</a> which was the important Jewish part of Krakow. And then we moved along to the place I badly wanted to see in Krakow. The Schindler’s museum. Unfortunately it was closed on Easter Sunday. But I managed to see the famous gates and a glimpse of the factory through it. There is nothing spectacular about the place. But I was more than happy to be there.<br /><br />Later in the day we explored the Wawel District, which was home to a beautiful church and an adjoining castle. And I must say Polish cuisine is actually good. I particularly liked the roasted duck and the famous zubrowka vodka. The town part of Krakow is typical old european with majestic churches like St.Mary’s church and a lively square in Stare Miasto. The square is an ideal place for a coffee or a beer on a good sunny day. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471129235735374866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 174px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj42cCWV3Yjo2B7C-0ZHL7AhCxwp3w7NIvbSJ9Nz7u4PwEWSKfNnB4J8G0ZffnmrhBrwcM90GCzDG1VRSJOWEOEIOzaK0GBbcOfV7okNf8cv6Db6d5Gw5nyUbSqrP7EJXt-X5pL/s400/13.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471122888050406722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 290px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi79A4bu2kc_Y1h41487i_FWvKD8Mm3Rr-pubClu79UiNsycDMFEhzmCSmALBamiMzdJDHk1fx1V4VGSnXKBGE0fZf5mbgskO8MWn_n5aR0cl7gRWxRMy9WQbEQO2bcAfZSgaTw/s400/12.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471125987805404498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 233px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibQaRbgahBmtgbaROI66b4BcqfzgSheuOr99mNGahbSt3FBDi5cBpR8EZW5tMDE0Cq1Qz2X2fRqUozEa5who38lyAEa4ZkanSLGzIfPCXEb3fwEAQUIrEXB8OWxr1nujJTqhHK/s400/21.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /> <br />What was striking about Poland was how catholic the country. It was amazing to see the churches packed with people attending the Easter mass. The faithful were even getting chairs from their home as the seats in the church were overflowing. This was very unlike what I have seen in Germany where people are predominantly atheist.<br /><br />Krakow was definitely the cultural capital of Poland where the squares and streets effused a charm of its own. I enjoyed having my regular coffee in one of the numerous café’s that dotted the main square. I also picked up my share of Amber for which Poland is particularly famous for…<br /><br />Took the evening train back to Warsaw and checked back at the nice hotel in the city. Probably the best value for money hotel I have ever stayed in Europe! The last day of the trip was primarily to cover the places we missed on the first day in Warsaw.<br /><br />Visited the calm and soothing Łazienki Park in the morning where you could stroll in the company of squirrels and peacocks.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471123295361456018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW-H1wAxVs6R0t2Ytt3gcSsPGb2_bj7AjKh3UFNAsFFHR60OBWcgrkp6pCCC_I23nvqKbZhU8zspd9TQcdP12mPbAjW256MvaWxfpR7B3YSi2ne9eBHAN-qA6dlw-Jk3pqGzO_/s400/14.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471123448888758018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 189px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRw8_nuDiQkSdVFSdt3FB3vqHJ99C7kO1SI-XJBSZjpEZ5NESioIxZtfVPsWeW_SIiQk3LbgT0OL98F49-nTtrzK4yBZ9CBt3p5bhkR6Dr2OhcGZeC5zCIcIGXHHb3fX9sjob/s400/15.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I think the place would be awesome during summer when the trees would be lush green. We reached a bit to early at the cusp of winter and spring. Nevertheless it was a delightfully peaceful and tranquil place.<br /><br />Later walked along the royal route which was dotted with buildings in neoclassical architecture. A really beautiful route which takes you all the way till the Jewish town in Warsaw.<br /><br /><br />And as we reached back the old town area we knew it was time to bid goodbye to Poland. Climbed the stairs of a nearby tower to get the aerial view of the colorful part of Warsaw which otherwise is jaded in character compared to Krakow.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471123810794474530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 485px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 141px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQr2kgTqy2-wysQi-Xg24FnS7ybdLdreaRpFr_jXE9vqbbWt18AjYzC6HHDDSwBgAzsT2MmQuimAqNMUxsyiyt8wQaMtWnYJBq1H7UvmnEXdx0Vf-wehrNjOP1CL91dCaSpk-b/s400/17.jpg" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471123643552192866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 504px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 131px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUQ09rI0b0W27m3NpMazpWwdJpUKckrZlh7_dEAKmCBX75uDqKyxC9iwcSz6vSYKX9jZerquf4a_txVDMh1SShLjTAaDldggy_RY8tmIKBQf8NEg6JoT6xfs7H-rsSFlaL8hLx/s400/16.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Poland cannot boast of landmarks like Eiffel tower or a colosseum nor locales as touristy as its Western Europe counterparts. But it has its own little treasures which I felt were grossly underrated. Unlike the snobbish Pariser, people in Poland are quite friendly and eager to help you in the streets.<br /><br />It was a trip worth taken and in some sorts a mix of tourist adventurism and personal pilgrimage. My travel mate was a school/college junior and a blogger as well who generously agreed to have a coffee which I was drinking like crazy…As I bid goodbye at the airport I went back to the shops to buy my last piece of Polish memorabilia. A small bottle of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EvxS_bJ0yOU">Chopin</a> vodka and shot glasses to accompany!</div><div> </div><div> Dziękuję Polska! ;) </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-54384070313327832482010-05-14T09:09:00.003+02:002010-05-14T09:12:20.169+02:00Thank you!My sincere apologies to all for the lull in blogging..Thanks a lot to all blogger friends who made me feel special!! I had to stop blogging mid-way due to several reasons..personal and otherwise....The space would be up and running soon.......mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-46156472887261024832010-02-28T18:15:00.011+01:002010-02-28T18:25:44.926+01:00Elbe<div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>The Elbe is the river which i see every day..on my way to office...it has a calming influence on me....But just like humans the river has its own mood swings...i have some pics captured over past year....in different seasons....some taken using my mobile cam...</div><br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443344857008031858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc3H-UvKlEi41PfYaJdUvvubGtvHtXiZMAnL3U8-OPJxXqXGyEwAT9qXqZ7V_292GAG07zd48_hNbD9CP3IHf4hCUPs808tLXE_pqEK_RQ-nLfMFlXYq84vZhyphenhyphendf7TY6CLL2SU/s400/4.jpg" border="0" /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443344960389695986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGc0aScbrRyjfacNm9xbpDLQy6q5xxil2Hfms5VXLOTnCd40R8USMFuJBBHWokYjf_tJ4exQ9fB4C2X1-qMg3TtwKpKnlzcZiOhVF-ci-uWryUGYJvcdcYGB4DfJ0neLzUWFXo/s400/5.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443345091341069282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 285px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpD_JpBRNUrI_uh3ACe3fxEOEI0iXBgU1xwNNS76f-EmkbGJzsjy98Sb3oy7b2OWMu8p4JGCKG8fhBx3MvIZtPr8Xkba4KJQb1TtRteIs02GFVqBMJmfhDwzqyHCZZgswKI75e/s400/8.jpg" border="0" /></div></div></div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443345185242579666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 344px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-55FKSdCOLSk_YR5ncGK0x76vPn7RvrrbASzViHcq6REf4SNvjUDbxsa5alGQVFgLHXVC6pwjoW5ESfxSoxHwGTleUY0uGuWLfRezZFjsACYSFf4xrSLXDMuvbCkCPbLF1irc/s400/9.jpg" border="0" /></div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443345310588632194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 248px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcEKwpE7hpM1kCr90XMULnWKiKN0WjpIoEoXnkhq6s8vFTElEVvjPzkPAWrLztSfv02sjg6goqi0Gw1k38Luqk3TmNaXAErhT5oWUHGh-FsqrfQZfjZ27__2KaOaUDO1rIlFfm/s400/7.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443345512994451090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 204px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPaKtc95f6MUWTIKCEBpXu5HVv8ZFPIAnqoKCwnCHndgnnN3oaHOVXeTvhIeXgF0S_gW60WMrORo2Mgatwu80xeq1_E0c1CPdqwA6Jpl6sWYMJOrzY2_jM6uD9O1UwehPczO2W/s400/DSC09439.JPG" border="0" /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443345885872961042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 188px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNxWs3PvU4nIOHJuK1M6aCA7OJEWnlR7QKsH_mi2TgzKxDZLLXJ4n7_5SD8SkNV93J0H6b_jcTz7PVLbwPeN6gDGpcMHWJdNeRyHde7VUNsxEbsdnigQ9hqzHCJTdo96TCvhpK/s400/DSC09484.JPG" border="0" /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443346011837033762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 195px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfRG_bhOkKar8Kl7whmHTz1AEeG_H7cq3aJKHBe4aeBh8OsKXA66BMQcOsuEnH5-lpOidXuJAbC7uyRq30wfiFc9n2d-hVUnZjXJzDJRK6a8259iKGKra3J9v5zWHumWtAZKVV/s400/DSC09476.JPG" border="0" /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443346122456564450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 224px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiihn95OF3KzC6Jc2hzBWqjG6NK3Ve7QCWmAA_iWHGIxwabII0eZNZlbEF6YM5ZYLeIQlJMYtdFs39I6yw9wn0JnKE5msoAPvhMgStKqbDdJ7AAYRWKnrFOcxFZVT0kyj18jXz0/s400/DSC09489.JPG" border="0" /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443346253206200370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 219px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJjawneWhPUjwedXVTaOC01bNVQz0a5nrkA-HI29R-fNC4WpiL1V7NzZLGI0GbtcJZarBJXPTwFFdD_inRmUZEAq1S2xCRP-HER3VTf9UzsBO9et2odCMqTGZa3IZAyYm1InV0/s400/3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443346374162724834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 113px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqgxU0G_KG-s4ElBVpexmuvObzjxvQq1ORg5gUgB5HGthNd0FIstFxt8M8MHQeX0nNvTGSPCbI_xVQATuf2RsD7mRaI1FiEHQEyKHqz3IRztZRgbSWDfOEVIFoWNi_IOO5YCV_/s400/6.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>I have started believing in sun signs...i am a crab and i like rivers... ;-P</p>mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-84327314482996802272010-02-18T21:54:00.000+01:002010-02-18T21:59:36.078+01:00And life goes on!During my vacation I was amused at how things haven’t changed much at home…Dad is still superstitious considering his strange belief that eating carrots are good for health…quite startling when you consider that he has a masters in botany!! Meanwhile Mom believes that we are facing a imminent shortage of food (which btw has no link to my consumption graph)…Why else would she insist on buying groceries every time I go out…Consider case studies below..<br /><br />Me: ”<em>Amma…I am goin out for a movie…”<br /></em>Amma : “<em>Buy 2 packets of milk and 10 eggs in that case…”</em> <br /><span style="color:#666666;">*duh…okay… :-I *</span><br /><br />Me:”<em>Amma…I am goin out to meet a friend…”<br /></em>Amma : “<em>Buy 2 packets of milk and 10 eggs in that case…”</em><br /><span style="color:#666666;"> *eh…now??… anyways… :-/ *<br /></span><br />Me:”<em>Amma…I am goin to Bombay …”<br /></em>Amma :“<em>Buy 2 packets of milk and 10 eggs in that case…”</em><br /><span style="color:#666666;">* it can’t be!! :-O *</span><br /><br />Me:”<em>Amma…I am…”<br /></em>Amma :“<em>Buy 2 …” (</em>stops abruptly)<br />Me : “<em>What Amma..?”</em><br />Amma :“<em>What were you saying?”</em><br />Me:”<em>Amma…I am goin nowhere in life”</em><br />Amma: “<em>okay..</em> :-I”<br /><span style="color:#666666;">* gotcha!! ;-P *</span><br /><br />Me:”<em>Amma…I am goin to the grocery shop…Do you need anything? “</em><br />Amma :“<em>nothing!”</em><br />Me: “<em>NOTHING!!!!”<br /></em><br />And after a brief pause.….<br /><br />“<em>Okay….Buy 2 packets of milk and 10 eggs in that case…”</em><br /><span style="color:#666666;">* and life goes on…</span> *<br /><br />Living in such tragic environs it’s also the envy of many to have a bro who believes in God for all the wrong reasons…In one particular instance which left me shaken and stirred was the sighting of this remarkable man, kneeling down as pious as a bishop from Rome and praying fervently at the church…<br /><em><br />”I believe in God, the father almighty…creator of Mohanlal and chicken curry”…</em><br /><br />And I was thinking all along…things would change somehow as he grew older!! Sigh!<br /><br />But then there are certain things which you never expect would change as it was proved recently…After alighting from the car my brother quipped...”Amma…you don’t have to lock the door…I ll do it with the remote”. She overestimated the technological advances cars have made in recent decades and left the car door wide open... It was after a brief moment and a few minutes at the porch observing mom who in turn was waiting to see the door closing act did we realize her sky high expectations…My brother looked at me and said in a tone which was desperately seeking sympathy...<br /><em><br />.”You are lucky, Chetta... After all you see things like this only when you come down on vacation…”</em><br /><br />Vacation or no vacation, certain things are constant…As is tradition in our family coupled with a hereditary desire to bargain with vendors especially the ones who sell fish, it is often with religious fervor we go shopping to the city market…And when dad alights at the palayam market he is a new man.. A man possessed by a strong conviction to get the best bargain and the freshest piece of <em>avoli</em>…someone who wouldn’t actually mind arguing that the <em>onakameen</em> is not fresh … someone who believes strolling across those stinking puddles of water and listening to the maniac calls from the fisher folk is the equivalent of a julie andrews singing and prancing at the meadows in alps!!! I ll never understand that!! Neither the post script which happens at home after every trip to the market... Ever since dad retired, he is missing the biology lab classes he took in school…I was not surprised when he pinned down a chicken in a vitruvian pose and started pining tiny needles on its body parts and explaining to mom the digestive system of a chicken…Amma being the english teacher listened to it with the same curiousity a Shelley or Keats would have about E.Coli bacteria. Those were days when I literarily wished we had bt. brinjal for lunch instead!<br /><br />And to seek solace I visited my cousin who lives in kottayam…someone who had gone through a rough patch himself…The last time I met him, his angst was very evident…Evocatively complaining about a lack of purpose in life….It was heartening to see a very positive change in his outlook…He looked like someone who attended a couple of “art of living” courses and Robin Sharma lectures….But the happiness lasted only for a few minutes when I figured out his purpose in life was playing hangman, raising sheeps and harvesting crops in facebook…sigh…atleast that keeps him happy!! And that’s when I overheard his nephew talking in the other room over the phone…<br /><br /><em>“This time Pytho Korah’s theorem sure question daa…”<br />“no...no...onnum pazhuthilla…”<br />“okay da…”<br />“Rascals lawyoo….ayyo...athinte chit undaakilla! “<br />“okay da…”<br />“ninte achan schoolil poyyittu undoo?”<br />“really!”<br />“ettaam class veryoo??”<br />“am sure daa…you can beat it!! Don’t worry!!”</em><br /><span style="color:#666666;">*click*</span><br />The symbol of hope and the torch bearer of our legendary academic heritage doesn’t disappoint me…He would probably end up singing like Susan Boyle…. “<em>I dreamed a dream in time gone by...”</em><br /><br />And so would everyone in the family…………..mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-29109469097213957622010-01-17T18:29:00.004+01:002010-03-10T08:35:00.003+01:00A prayerDilawar Singh aka Philip, as we friends call him is now in the hospital recovering from his third surgery...<br /><br />A month ago Philip, Jaya and myself had met up in town for a pre christmas get together…We had reasons to look forward to in the coming month…I was going home on a vacation after a year...Jaya was getting married soon…and Philip was visiting India to start life afresh…Three of us wished each other good luck and parted ways that night…<br /><br />My vacation was going as per plan…Surprising dad with a car on his birthday…throwing a party on his retirement…meeting friends and relatives…traveling around…the typical happy vacation for a once in a year visitor!! .A few thousand kilometers away Philip had come down to start life afresh…Going through a painful divorce he was under lot of emotional stress…….And he had decided to turn a fresh leaf and start life all over again, quit his well paid job abroad to find a new one in India and start everything on a clean slate…While Jaya and myself bid Philip good bye during the get together, I was not sure that I would be meeting him any time soon…coz he would never come back from India if everything went as per plan…I was both happy and sad at the same time…Happy that he was positive after going through the emotional atychaar on his personal front and sad that I would be missing a good friend back here…<br /><br />Two weeks later I get a mail from Jaya…Her mail read…<br /><br /><em>“Hey...sorry to disturb your vacation…but I had to tell you this!…Philip met with an accident in India…He was driving in his new car with his mom in Delhi…His mom passed away on the spot…Philip is in serious condition…His number is xxxxxxxxx…take care...Jaya “</em><br /><br />There are times in your life when you start questioning...”Why it happens to me!!” …But that day I was asking...”Why it happened to him!!”… To someone who had left the country where he was working for 10 years hoping to get over with trauma of parting with his wife and kid…how bad could it get!! I could manage only bits and pieces of information from his Punjabi dad…Two weeks later I got a call from Philip himself...<br /><br />I am normally not short of words…But when I have to talk to someone who has just gone through a huge loss like this…or someone suffering from painful physical / emotional injury….I am at loss for words…But when he called up that day, the first thing he said…<br /><br /><em>“Hey dude…why don’t you come down to the hospital …there are so many beautiful mallu nurses here…!!”</em><br /><br />I smiled at his sense of humor…his ability to joke and make me laugh inspite of what he was going through…Philip had multiple fractures on his hands…His facial bones were crushed…and a good deal of skin on his face lost….One of his eyes is probably damaged…A team of 8 doctors had performed surgery on him for 11 hours just after the accident…His face had to be simply held up by a assembly of metal rods and plates!!!.They were amazed how he was after all alive!!! But then he is a proud sardar who wouldn’t give up without a fight!! His jaw bones were broken and he could hardly speak…And yet he was checking out about my vacation…or whether I have gone bride hunting…and whether I was having a gala time with friends…He wished me a merry christmas….And when he ended the call he just said ‘take care’ as always..!!! Me?<br /><br />I talked to him a couple of times later….Meanwhile I was back after my vacation and getting used to my routine life….A call few days ago, Philip told me that he was coming back to continue rest of his treatment abroad…Apparently it had already cost him 10 lakh rupees in a span of 2 weeks and unfortunately his foreign insurance wouldn’t cover it…He flew back alone from Delhi….a excruciating 14 hrs flight spending a night in between at an airport inside of being in a hospital bed… He wouldn’t even tell us when he would reach the city since he wouldn’t want anyone of us to bothered to pick him up at the airport…On the same day he got himself admitted to a hospital here…<br /><br />Few days ago….Myself and Jaya went to the hospital to meet him for the first time since the accident…It was almost a month ago when we had met up last…We were chilling over some wine at one of the christmas markets back then ..All three of us had something to look forward that day…my vacation, Philip’s plan to start afresh and Jaya’s wedding… So we were obviously quite happy that day…But for my flight next day afternoon, I think we would have just stayed back fooling around… But that day when I met him in the hospital…I was shocked!! I was shocked that I almost cried!! Meeting him in the shape he was in, it was hard for us to just act normal…I tired my best to put a regular look and did not want Philip to know that how dismayed I was….But then we were not good actors!!<br /><br />It happens that when you see someone change so much in a span of a month, you forget how to react for a moment…We talked for a few hours in the hospital with Philip…A month on liquid food, the sturdy sardar had become a frame of bones…how much can a soup help! .His face disfigured and swelling all over…plastic surgery done with skin grafted from his legs….This was not the Philip I could imagine…Philip was tired…and in pain…but he was putting a brave face…A lesser mortal would have succumbed long ago!! On the way out from hospital, I did not know what to talk with Jaya...and I could see that she did not know either…<br /><br />There are moments in our life when it suddenly strikes how helpless we could be…how fragile our life is….how much human relations matter…how important it is to love others...and to be loved…how desperate you would want god to hear you…..all these thoughts just came flashing by!! Some times when I have those one to one silent conversations with god I complain about trivial things which I thought were big in my perspective…we crib about people not reciprocating camaraderie, love…we crib about work…we crib about lack of respect from others….but then….when I saw real pain…i couldn’t help but think how naïve I was….I realized when I saw him the importance of having good friendships..(<em>Not the 'hi-wassup-take care'-thing</em>)..i mean real ones…how important it is to take care of people around you…how important a hug can be…I also realized how powerless as humans we are…<br /><br />Dear lord, I know I have bored you several times with my little requests and its probably a overflowing mail box…but this time I really wish you would help Philip recover fast…Its hard for me as a fellow human being and a friend to see him and feel all helpless.. A little prayer for Philip to reduce his pain…to make his life worthwhile again!! Please give him the strength to fight and recover his confidence…to fight the adversities!! Over the past one week when I visit him I attempt to make him laugh with my silly jokes and though I manage to make him once in a while I realize deep down he is missing the love of a family…Its hard being in pain…but its harder not to have a family around…I wish to anyone who reads this…Love your family, your friends without any strings attached…Love them without expecting anything in return…these are little things which often we realize when it is too late….I wish Philip recovers soon and gets to start life afresh….as he had wished!!<br /><br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">P.S. This post probably not the happiest one to start a day with... but then i couldnt help express it...</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Update</strong></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;">For many who have asked how Philip is doin....</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;">He is doing much better than the day I put this post...he has gained a few kilos thanks to some solid food he has started taking..On a positive note there seems to be some vision left in his damaged eye which could probably be rectified with surgery....He has a couple of surgeries in the pipeline...But the dude is in much better spirits now...Infact good enough that we actually had a beer together....Thanks a lot for all who have prayed for him...it has definitely helped him!!</span></em>mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-74330655078293279812010-01-16T11:57:00.008+01:002010-01-16T12:08:04.315+01:00A vacation gone by..<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvJlIv9o1k-50MZzYTOI2yoqAZvQMIQ8GOAsEvszD_rHbB_dAjCusYPaIiJ2_IfG2KaDx6Gp0hPajOqZt5p0X6Z4_K9pp8mKkNTA2gTaf1mg6iwSvk5UqqAkuETTUpB7pRfyzi/s1600-h/DSC00597.JPG"></a><br /><div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwb7N9srEj5a9cbM3fv1hHzvVKOatHdDtnt1N4qkmnzwhCSvrbk5mq-jeDNFO01t9M8f54aeJ1osdhyDEjXelDCWisQEbakX6usIzQCjvzJDyBUOuzpYIz3iUiNX86RMKXq5k_/s1600-h/DSC00511.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427291371737254306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwb7N9srEj5a9cbM3fv1hHzvVKOatHdDtnt1N4qkmnzwhCSvrbk5mq-jeDNFO01t9M8f54aeJ1osdhyDEjXelDCWisQEbakX6usIzQCjvzJDyBUOuzpYIz3iUiNX86RMKXq5k_/s400/DSC00511.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><div>Sometime in December in a very immaculately planned mission otherwise called a vacation this soul took the avatar of a human being in search of a precious vital element for the survival of mankind. The avatar was accepted by the <em>ayyo paavam malayalee</em> tribe and they sympathized with desperate search of his resulting in a pact enabling the avatar access to copious quantities of naadan food which was consumed at a alarming rate which later lead to chaos in that part of the world…Vaiko threatened with blockade of livestock and poultry supply to the state, LPG tanks were blown up in protests against depreciating stock of food and a propaganda movie was released in malayalam sympathizing with farmers….Facing hostile conditions the avatar retreated back to Hamburg where he was welcomed by a crowd waving sausages and baguettes… The avatar now looks back with fond memories of those 25 days when he was transported to a wonderland where he swam with neymeens and karimeens and flew with quails and ducks….well ducks can’t fly but hey it was a wonderland!!<br /><br />Sometime early December I took the flight to Trivandrum to begin my short escapade from realities of life…Considering that I had a hectic two weeks just before the India trip as I had to travel for work in Toulouse, I slept off during most of the flight…So as I landed in tvm next day morning I was hardly tired and whisked home by Dad, Mom and Bro from the airport…After a few days in tvm I started off with the detailed trip I had chalked out..<br /><br /><strong>Mumbai<br /></strong>Visiting the maxim city was a dream come true….Though I spend less than 24 hrs in the city, it was awesome to jaunt around the city with 2 college buddies who gave me a quick tour of the metropolis and I was left wanting for more…Landmarks like Leopold café, the Taj Hotel, Gateway of India, the sea link all covered in a single evening with visits to two pubs to drink tea…err… ;-D .. A friend who fondly address his place of residence as ‘Candy Valley’ instead of Kandivili and another resident Navi Mumbai resident harboring dreams of a villa at Malabar hill never missed an opportunity to sing halleluiahs about their beloved city…It’s undoubtedly a city of contrasts which gives you the impression that there is something for everyone…taxi drivers and rickshawswallas who could teach a few lessons to their counterparts in other cities like Bangalore…witnessing a traffic jam at 1 am in the morning…finding a eat out serving fried rice and chicken at 2 in the morning….it was absolutely impressive to see a city that never sleeps…the day I left the city it only left me with a longing to visit the city again and hopefully for a much longer time…I missed meeting a good blogger friend of mine in the city too and I have to make up for it sometime!!<br /><br /><strong>Bangalore/Mysore</strong><br />Arriving in Bangalore the next day…the city I know the best outside Kerala…I was happy to be greeted by more welcoming weather than Mumbai…Met up with a German friend of mine after almost a year and it was a short meet up...But very glad to meet up with her whose juggling act of doing a MBA and at the same time working a hotel left me impressed…sheer German ideals of self-independence!! I am yet to hear a Ph.D holder from India who would do that…I travelled to Mysore the same day to meet up with another old buddy….The next day morning I went to our office, the place from where I left almost 3.5 years ago…and it was a very nostalgic experience for me…the office had grown sprawling huge and the sight of the new buildings were jaw dropping…just like old times relished a breakfast at the office canteen…though there were hardly any recognizable faces insides the office anymore….I took the bus back to Bangalore to visit my grandma and other relatives…and Amma had arrived in the mean time from Trivandrum…At my uncle’s place is Bangalore I feel perfectly at home and there is no dearth of topics when family meet...Unfortunately time was short and we had to fly to naadu the next day..<br /><br />Note: The new Bangalore airport is awesome…great ambience and feel and easily international!!<br /><br /><strong>Kottayam/Changnacherry/allapuzha</strong><br />Meanwhile bro picks us up at Cochin and we drive down to kottayam…and we cousins did what we did best…get into nerves of the elders at home ! Ever since cousins got older, many getting married, having kids….its rare to get everyone in place for a full family get together…But thankfully except for 3 who missed out we had a wonderful family get together at a hotel in town…Like old times we cousins got to play dumb charades and pull each others legs…One of the best parts of the trip was meeting my peppy and cute adorable nieces who just were an absolute delight to be with…And my aunt had a lipsmacking kappa with yellu which I gorged in vivacious enthusiasm…Above all it was the company of loved ones that made the whole time I spend there memorable! </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427291247227413890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 260px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH9UZMd57FFuRQH1a2fjWoKIkjLIsjx1hQ2vG6MMco7QmwZoUnAeh6CfkX2Jo1SKNPDzdNJfD_V1yO-Q41Fgrcww9UXKhFLtcGOdB0EtlhoIVxHAOQ1o38TNJdCbbFozehJCOI/s400/DSC09779.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427290604329982594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtdmmNuTvZXQAhehKUXIkZMD-2NmuC9vS49u6SRdG3UT1aZeQqUeERUcM_6QTSbujBzST8NDVHtEN-R7tOf5tW511VkzKYc1PwnzGrVawOjLXy6_c7hlC3Hz_mvbxlYT0H_WvH/s400/DSC00541.JPG" border="0" /><br /><strong>Trivandrum</strong><br />Being a very hectic vacation I couldn’t really relax at home...We did have a great time around with Dad's birthday, his retirement party and ofcoz christmas with family!! And ofcoz I did not miss visiting my favourite hangouts in Trivandrum….the beach, museum, the burgers in Ambrosia …A pleasant surprise this time was meeting up with school friends some almost after 10 years and one among them being a blogger!! We drove down to Kovalam beach and enjoyed a cup of coffee at dusk…And I also managed to meet mother in law of a very famous food blogger friend of mine!! :-)Being the foodie I am, I checked out my favourite eat outs there including new ones…</div><div> </div><div>Note:Loved the buffet spread at the Keys hotel and the sandwiches at all spice !<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427291612980961474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhedJ9XAe1iK3lXgklrZrqo4x4yI2yI9RKjxYMk2AiDnKgyPC7nFHngTvcPOJnv563_MDKMBc9bow-2_YXHQC3TIwzC3oRSbebK93u4rMfd_dLMsM32IjuOgy_FFse7ASDq0vmJ/s400/DSC00528.JPG" border="0" /><br /><strong>Trichur<br /></strong>Apparently this is now bro’s adopted city…and he invited me over to his place.. As they say in Thrissur, it is one city where it is okay to go round in circles! I guess Thrissurians get that one! ;-) Got to see the famous Vadakumnathan temple…whatay fabulous piece of architecture…and ofcoz other famous landmarks like Thiruvambady and Puthenpalli…Loved the local cuisine there as well…which was actually quite different from Kottayam / Trivandrum...<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427290897384113426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 263px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLh6CA89BtgqnDiXiPmP8vXRg6U1DLRXBGS2Mg6UZyv5LGvwRkaZt21eJ6_YHRDJfSh6hkUFpIcgVLVV0JxMzGdRxRZ45bhZU0Aiu1ipvcESQOIqSp4CvqVWbvOuF4Oc2qGOvn/s400/SDC13362.JPG" border="0" /><br />Though I met a fair share of hostile people in between like the rickshaw driver who was asking for 500 bucks for a ride from pattom to the railway station on a strike day to drivers along the city roads who would honk and take pleasure in breaking the rules, they were minor irritants…Travelling by bus or train in Kerala would normally not be exciting on a regular day few year back…But this around I relished the sights and the experience as much I would love going to a new place…<br /><br />Well…I think it wouldn’t suffice to write how much I enjoyed the trip in a single post….Sorry to all my friends here for being lax at updating the blog and replying to comments…I have to catch up with a lot of blogs!! I was apparently not feeling positive to post anything here, the reason for which I ll explain in a later post…Wishing you all a lovely weekend!! </div></div></div></div>mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-4259278316134565932009-12-06T13:27:00.003+01:002009-12-06T13:30:43.375+01:00knock knock.....Rice...fish curry....koorka thoran...pavakka thoran....pullisseri.....chemeen chammanthi.....kappa with ellu......parotta....beef curry.......burp!!! phew so many in the list done by day 2!!<br /><br /><br />Sorry for this short abrupt post...but just couldnt find anywhere else to say this! ;-D<br />Have a great and happy week ahead......... :)mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-88257060366646561042009-11-18T09:06:00.003+01:002009-11-18T09:14:34.177+01:00The Perfect Delivery.A few weeks…on a Saturday evening my neighbor who works in the same office as mine dropped by home…This guy was my ex-roommate and now happily married and stays in an apartment in the same complex. So he drops by home occasionally to figure out how bachelors still live and to check out my <a href="http://bachelor-ambrosia.blogspot.com/2008/07/please-beer-with-this-beef.html">beef fry </a>since he says that it tastes just like how we get in the Bar!! :-P<br /><br />So we were standing at the house balcony and I was sipping my wine…Our friendship is actually quite formal and hence our talk often centers around restricted small-talk topics like what’s happening in office...or is there something special in town…and he sometimes say the market is going up or down to which I agree nodding….Since this guy works in the same office as mine I would say we talk more office matter …So that Saturday this is how the conversation went along…<br /><br />A sullen faced roommate arrives at the balcony..<br /><br />J:<em> “it’s too much man…too much…!”<br /></em>Me: “<em>what …what happened?”</em><br />J: “<em>I saw this delivery video…it was bad!!”</em><br /><br />Working in a place where aircrafts are made and supplied to customers it’s often a gala event… Special deliveries are often marked with quite a lot of glitz and glamour…And the previous day there was a delivery for Air France.<br /><br />Me: “<em>Really!! I can’t believe it”<br /></em>Me (thinking): “wow...this guy is so passionate about his work and bothering to check out the videos too...impressive!!”<br /><br />J: “<em>yeah...it was not as I thought…it’s quite a scene!!”</em><br />Me: “<em>yeah…you are right… I was there for the last one…and it was awesome!!”<br /></em>J (his face has now changed drastically): “<em>awesome??”</em><br />Me: “<em>ofcoz!!…they even gave us a T shirt….btw…where did you watch it? ”</em><br />J: <em>“in youtube…but man…I couldn’t bear watching it!!”<br /></em>Me: “<em>hmm…I understand…sometimes it get a bit boring...with all the people!!”</em><br />J: “<em>I mean its not boring…but its kind off gory!”<br /></em>Me: <em>“I don’t think so…c’mon…if you saw it ...the Emirates one... they pulled a fine job and now you are saying that they did not do the same with Air France...eh…hard to believe it.!! I think for em all customers are alike….am sure they must have made the whole thing spectacular”<br /></em>J:”<em>spectacular!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?”<br /></em>Me: “Oh y<em>es….SPECTACULAR!!”</em><br /><br />*silence*<br /><br />*still silence*<br /><br />Me (mocking) : “<em>Now what…you agree…isn’t!!”</em><br /><br />*silence*<br /><br />J turns and walks away…..<br /><br />And then it dawns on me...<br /><br />J is expecting to be a dad soon…Apparently the fathers do take part in the delivery procedure out here… he was curious to check out a baby delivery video in youtube….and I was happy thinking about more important things in life like whether I should buy a Reserva or a Bordeaux wine for the weekend….<br /><br />And I couldn’t help a parting shot now that I realized…<br /><br /><em>“J…you know what…the pilot gets to cut the cord when the aircraft is delivered!!!”</em><br /><br />And he walked away with a grin on his face…mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-11482899810999899692009-11-14T11:47:00.002+01:002009-11-14T11:57:01.585+01:00A game plan !<em> Mike and Gill went up the hill…<br /> To fetch a completed stadium<br /> Mike fell down and screwed his plan…<br /> And Gill came tumbling after…<br /><br /> Now Mike did laugh and Gill did cry<br /> But his tears soon abate;<br /> Then Gill did say that they should play<br /> At see-saw across the New Delhi gate.</em><br /><br /> ~ excerpt from a nursery rhyme yet to be published.<br /><br />Some time ago we saw our <em>Prathibhajee</em> doing a Patel pose at the courtyards of Buckingham palace with Elizabeth <em>rajnee</em> in what was arguably a very antique pair of national leaders holding the commonwealth games baton...Though we all wished the queen had given us back the Kohinoor diamond as a token of appreciation, she excused herself and instead offered us kidney pies and a free tour of the palace in a horse carriage which was lying unused at the Windsor stables…And as the ceremony took place we all saw <em>Kalmadiji</em> looking visibly tense pondering over the pace of construction back home…Damn the media for being critical of him!! Losers!! He was later seen shouting furiously over the phone to the bhai at the apparent lacksidal pace at which his villa in Pune was getting in shape. A concerned man indeed!!<br /><br />Amidst all fennell seeds of distrust which seems to haunt Kalmadiji, we think the games are right on track…After all this is a event to showcase the rising India…Now the commonwealth games is actually a pretty serious event where we have to fight for medals with countries of fine sporting traditions like Vanuatu, Tuvalu, Samoa and of course the dark horse Tokelau. Though the first guffaw is already out when a athlete from Samoa was send a email by a sleepy games official confirming his participation…which went like <em>…”It’s our honor to welcome an athlete from our ally Kingdom of Samosa…”</em> Apparently the clergy is also up on their toes after news gained prominence that India would be welcoming three saints during the event…Special evening prayers are already in place in anticipation of the blessed arrival of St Helena, St Kitts, St Lucia and ofcoz not to mention Saint Vincent and his Grenadines…Personally am looking forward to athletes from Niue, Jersey and Isle of Man as I am not yet convinced that they are not fictional places from Lord of the Rings. But seriously to be fair, isn’t the whole games a huge ragging exercise where big countries like Australia, India, Canada and England invite tiny speck of islands which look more like cinnamon sprinkling on top of coffee. I mean isn’t it cruel to expect a country like Norfolk Island or Niue whose entire population might be less than the support staff of the Indian archery team to put a decent fight!!<br /><br />However overconfident we are, we face intense competition from countries like Jamaica. Rather small as our spies figured out from a unused Atlas at the RAW office , Usain Bolt and Air Jamaica do share the only runway in that country in turns…It not just in athletics we face threat in our quest for medals…After all Pakistan has become virtually unbeatable in shooting events and Bindra dude can well kiss goodbye…Intensive training camps at Swat and Warzistan have left other competitors aimless and looking down the barrel. Our lone hope in this event apparently in quick gun murugan who might be able to thrown in a few surprises.<br /><br />The inaugural showpiece ceremony as insiders say would be a bollywood affair with lot of daredevil stunts expected to be performed... Akshay Kumar would be swimming all the way from Caribbean’s wading his way through the shark infested Atlantic Ocean and <em>Pazhassi raja</em> might just drop in to showcase his sword skills… There is already a lot of debate happening over who else should take part in the ceremony. Reddy brothers have claimed the support of 64 IOA members and yet to figure out what they will do with the support. Close Reddy confidantes promises us a mine blowing show…With Kareena Kapoor romped in as a brand ambassador there are already fears expressed in media circles. 15 enormous weightlifters, the pride of our nation who were fed round the clock over the past few years with generous quantities of chickens, paneer, lassi and mutton soup by <em>sports mantralaya</em> inspite of the looming drought in the country have suddenly become frail .Doctors are still trying to ‘zero’ down the cause!!<br /><br />Well any games doesn’t begin with its own share of controversy… A Mauritius swimmer was forced to swim all the way back home after he was chased by a welcome committee stationed at a western city in India...Apparently his desire to have Bombay duck was not taken too lightly!! The swimmer becomes the first person ever to swim across the India ocean and has wholeheartedly thanked the “Reconstruction Army” for make him realize his true potential…In a unfortunate turn of events the hockey sticks kit sanctioned for the Indian team was stolen from Thyagaraja stadium when visiting grey haired games officials mistook it for walking sticks. The authorities are trying to retrace it back.<br /><br />To look at the positive side, the games village canteen is expected to satisfy all athletes from various countries. The chief chef promised that the menu was tailor made for each discipline. The games committee was not surprised to see a famous archer munching over arrowroot biscuits apparently trying to figure out the root cause of his loss of form. However coaching manuals leave a lot to be desired after one tennis player arrived at the hockey stadium coz his coach repeatedly told him ‘<em>dhyan se kelo…dhyan se kelo’</em>. He had to go back disappointed without any aces smashed down the court.<br /><br />The event also promises improved language skills as intensive spoken English courses have started showing results… A recent event pointed out gives us a ray of hope…<br /><br />Phoren tourist showing the map: “<em>hey maan…I cannot find the place…”<br /></em>Trained rickshaw driver: “<em>I find Connaught place for you….</em> “<br />Phoren tourist:”<em>okay…thank you…you can find the place...good”<br /></em>Phoren tourist:”<em>OK…. Lets go Teenmurti”<br /></em>Trained rickshaw driver:”<em>No sir...I am Narayana Murthy...I take you to Connaught place”<br /></em>Phoren tourist:” <em>uh!! “</em><br /><br />Meanwhile as we speak and the phoren tourist is roaming lost in Connaught place I know deep down in my heart that we were having fun with the British by holding a games long held ago in their honor… And what could be a better tribute in current times than making a movie called London Dreams and hopefully make the queen watch it in Wembley….<br /><br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;"> P.S. Sorry folks for this post..i know you guys will understand...after all just the other day I saw london dreams.......</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Listening to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IWqxKqMV--w">cheap tricks</a>..</span></em>mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-84070445073232156622009-11-02T18:51:00.003+01:002009-11-02T19:11:48.334+01:00just some thoughts..<em>Friends…<br />Strength and comfort shall we seek...<br />Hugs and kisses exchanged in bonhomie…<br />Happiness and love we would crave…<br />Poems written and frescoes painted in pursuit…<br />Fear and anger we bump into in this ride…<br />Leaving us abandoned… in thoughts sometimes…<br />Leaving memories strewn… in a canvas called mind...<br />Some which got etched without asking us…<br />And we scrubbed hard hoping they fade...<br />Though the cobbler had warned… it only shines brighter…<br />And we move on…with dollops of myriad thoughts…<br />And we move on… looking ahead…<br />Hoping to touch that island of hope…and fresh starts…<br />Which seems so far away and yet…<br />We wished were close by! </em><br /><br />Probably it’s the autumn which doesn’t help me write anything these days…I would like to share a quote meanwhile I saw in a email signature recently…<br /><br /><em>"If a drop of water falls in lake there is no identity, But if it falls on a leaf of lotus it shines like a pearl. So choose the best place where you would shine...."<br /></em><br />I wish everyone of you the same!!<br /><br /><em>P.S. Today I finished 4 years in blogworld..Thanks a lot for the wonderful people out here who have given me company!!</em>mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-19811853189271174392009-10-05T23:04:00.008+02:002009-10-05T23:31:12.333+02:00<span style="font-family:courier new;"><blockquote><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span></blockquote><div align="justify"><blockquote>To Maria
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<br />Every time I open a fresh new notebook, before writing anything in it, I glance at it admiringly…so fresh...clean and white… that as you move it closer to your face, it brings a whiff of fragrance like a new born baby powdered with a dash of lavender.. There is a frailty of the untouched…unblemished piece of work which sometimes make you pause before you write those first words in a blank page…There is a feeling of responsibility because you are going to change the life of the notebook for ever…it might pass across several hands...its edges lose the fineness and the pages bereft of aroma of fresh papyrus…I am in a way the first person the book came across in its life…This is what I feel when I start writing the first letters on this book because you were just like this new book for me when I met you and I want you to know that it will remain like that forever… ~ <em>Fred.</em></span></blockquote></div></span>
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<br />Fred was sitting at the hospital verandah where the shades from the maple tree nearby gave patients much needed relief that summer. After writing those few words in the moleskin notebook which he had bought, he relaxed back on his easy chair…intermittently closing his eyes in rhythm with sunrays that escaped through the thick foliage of leaves above….He was soon tired playing this game and closed his eyes, as if making a point to the sun that he was not interested in the mischief it was playing. And soon he drifted in his thoughts…
<br />
<br />It was infact one sunny day several years ago, Fred and Maria got married at the Catholic Church in Cologne…
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<br />It was the 70’s and Germany was booming…..When the young Goan girl Maria arrived in the country she had no clue about her future…After studying nursing in Madgaon, she was one of the lucky few who got a job in Germany…. A place far different from sunny palm frilled Goa where the flavour of fresh fish curry cooked with coconut milk would hang in air till dusk…A place full of white people with pink cheeks and blue eyes, far different from tanned lean Goan men who took to the sea back in her hometown…But she was sure about one thing….she wanted to embrace the new land….
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<br />Maria quickly adapted to the new culture and place….She was the sprightly one among a bunch of Indian girls who where brought in by the catholic mission …Her eyes glowed in eagerness to the new sights and smells while others cowered in fear timidly…. She was the darling of german nuns who took a special liking to the cheerful girl from India who would sing and dance like Julie Andrews to the delight of the kids in the hospital where she was working…. There was a spring in her walk and a song in her heart which was hard to resist for anyone not to notice…And it was no surprise that a fellow Goan chap called Fred did not need much reason to talk to her…a talk which went on for long durations followed by long letters and poems and made official by something pretty short actually….when both eagerly said at the church to each other<em>…”I do…….”
<br /></em>
<br />And it was a truly special time of their lives when they were looked upon as the perfect happy family by the whole community…As years passed by, Maria aged beautifully unlike others who were at peace with a age when people didn’t mind gaining a few pounds or greying hair…After all Maria was the athletic lady who would jog every day morning and cycle her way home along the Rhine promenade taking delight in the breeze that caressed her mind and cheeks alike… She was youthful as ever in mind and body in unison….Her children adored her and she was a lovely mother who deserved the adoration….Like the roses in her patio, the orchids and blueberries in the garden she was the color in epiphany for her kids and loved ones….
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<br />One day as usual Fred made the morning coffee and woke her up for their morning jog….But that day she was almost frozen…Maria told Fred she could not lift herself up from the bed…Two days later the doctors informed Fred that the paralysis which Maria was affected with was a rare kind off poisoning which affected her nervous system….She would be bed ridden for life…That day when Fred met Maria at her bedside they did not speak…after all in a beautiful relationship like theirs silence did speak a lot…
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<br />There were plenty of get well soon bouquets and cards at her hospital room…but the docs could not do anything but feel helpless about how unrealistic those wishes were… Fred’s close friends asked him to move back to Goa where he could live comfortably with his savings and Maria would be cared by nurses whom he could employ… After a few days Maria was lifted on to a wheel chair and taken home….to their little home in Cologne…
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<br />Fred held Maria’s limp hand and squeezed it…A tear fell down from Maria’s eyes in a desperate attempt to return the squeeze…but she couldn’t….From that day in 1983, Fred did what not many men have done…He became a mother for their kids…He cooked food for all three at home…He ran the house along with his regular job…He took care of his beloved wife’s needs….bathed her…fed her….Months later, to the surprise of the doctors Maria could finally walk with some help….
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<br />Maria is fade shadow of her older self…. She doesn’t anymore look like Julie Andrews…She cannot hold anything heavier than a pen…But her face effuses a glow of contentment… contentment of having a husband who took care of her… a contentment in being able to fight the doctor’s predictions….for being at peace with her unconventional life…
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<br /><em>‘Uncle Fred…’</em>….. Someone touched Fred’s shoulders…
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<br />The nurse at the hospital woke Fred from his thoughts…and he walks slowly back to the hospital…Maria would be discharged today after her annual blood transfusion....He held her frail yet warm hand and gives it a little squeeze…This time she squeezed back…..
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<br />In a few days, Fred and Maria would be celebrating their 35th wedding anniversary… Fred as always is never sure with birthday gifts….He is quite tense whether Maria would like his little birthday present….a brand new moleskin notebook with the preface he wrote that morning…Maria would write poems and bring color again………
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<br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">P.S. inspired by a real life couple i know in Hamburg..taken liberty of fictionalising into a story..</span></em>
<br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">P.P.S. Post dedicated to a good friend of mine from Cologne.</span></em>
<br />mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com40tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-91453382328114830002009-10-02T10:54:00.001+02:002009-10-02T10:56:28.925+02:00To tell a telly tale<div>Last week I was watching the India-Pakistan cricket match with my friends in Hamburg….I am not a cricket buff but when I was invited to watch the match I hurried immediately since I love to see a match huddled together in a group where everyone got a comment about how a shot should have been played, why the field placements are wrong, why the ball should come on to the bat and why it was swinging in the other direction and the list goes on….After all everyone relishes giving authoritative opinions on the game… with all the tension so visible in the faces and a chilled beer to accompany...watching a game together is fun…..So last week while watching the match together I was transported to a incident which happened 5 years ago….<br /><strong><br />Place: A duplex flat in Pune<br />Year: 2004</strong><br /><br />That was the time when we started working and six of us were staying in a 3 BHK duplex flat at one of the most well known addresses in Pune…We were new to the city and we had arrived packing only our clothes and essentials…So like all just out of college newly employed folks we survived on bare essentials… We just had a huge empty flat with not a single chair or bed…. And since we were 6 guys living in this flat (all of em from same college who got placed in the same company) there was never a dull day….The tension of clearing the training at the company coupled with our new found ability to splurge thanks to our salaries, we were having time of our lives…I am sure ‘B’ helped liquor sales double in Pune those 4 months and restaurants sprung up around Aundh after they figured out ‘S’ had arrived in town ….So it was not that we really lacked entertainment , but we missed a television where we could watch a match together…<br /><br />12 kms from our place stayed another group of 7 guys from the same college…But they were arch-rivals back in Trivandrum, them being hostellers….But then in Pune the famous mallu unity came into the picture thanks to a common love for OCR Rum and beef fry….The old enemies became friends …<br /><br />Then one fine day my roommate made a grand announcement..…<br /><br /><em>“Guys…I want to share a great news with you guys….”</em><br /><br />We all sprung up eager to know what it would be…did he finally get the scotch we wondered?<br /><br /><em>“My folks are sending a television from Kerala for all of us …We can watch the upcoming cricket tournament LIVE..!!”</em> he exclaimed……<br /><br />Our joys knew no bound….and we started marking off dates from the calendar anticipating the expected day of arrival… The television was expected to arrive on match day… So we made space for the TV in one of our huge rooms…Set our bed and pillows in the corners of the room for a viewing experience similar to those mughal dancers with hookah smoking junta around…. Considering our new found friend ship with the hosteller group in Wakad, we has specially invited those 7 guys as well along with a few from the neighbourhood….Around 16 guys were assembled in one of our rooms and it was packed…Serious pre-match discussions were happening around….some heated and others leisurely having their beers….It was like a big party where everyone were waiting for the chief guest to arrive..<br /><br /><strong>Time: 1 pm</strong><br /><br />We got a call from the courier man that the TV was waiting for handover at the ground floor…Note that our duplex was at the eighth floor…So two of us went down to pick it up…As we signed the papers the courier guy handed us the box.. The HOLY BOX….<br /><br />After the courier man left , We did not utter a word and just looked at each other…a bit stunned … But we both knew what we would do in such circumstances…..B picks up his mobile…<br /><br /><em>“Daa…Raghu…Could you come down…bring a couple of guys along…its quite heavy for two of us”…..</em>my friend rang up ..<br /><br />In a few minutes we had a couple of guys down who had come down to help us lift the ‘heavy’ piece of electronics…Rest of the folks back at the apartment were getting ready to give a warm reception to the television….As we came out of the lift we shouted at the remaining guys to give way lest the huge TV hits somewhere on the way and gets damaged…<br /><br /><strong>Time: 1:15 pm<br /></strong><br />There is silence…of the eerie kind by the way..<br /><br />The box was to be opened in front of everyone …Many amongst us who were quite proficient at <em>therrivili</em> suddenly found themselves short of words to express …mostly out of shock…As my friend did the caesarian of the cardboard box and we looked at in anticipation, and it did come out without much ado and without a whimper of a sound… a beautiful, cute 5 inch TV !!...the kind off which you see in taxis…or somewhere in barbershops or in miniatures exhibitions ...looking more like a lunch box or rather a soap box …and shouldn’t I mention the black and white plasma screen with a surround sound it boasts of…<br /><br />We kept the TV at our designated area quite ceremoniously like a deity in the puja room…Most of us had never seen a smaller TV in our lives…and hence we sort of felt blessed to see one..<br /><br />That evening 16 guys watched the match on that tiny contraption of electronic wonder …From a fair distance we looked like 16 rats trying to drink milk from a pan since we had to huddle together into a mass heap to see what exactly was happening in that little screen…The thadiyanmaars amongst us trampled on top of the skinny ones… We don’t remember much about the match…But we very well remember that particular day when we invited 10 unsuspecting folks, 12 kms away from our place to watch a match in a 5 inch screen!! That was a sight to see….<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387923798039825410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 220px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7pYr7uLLSJsqWgc6Jhy0MwMcxcoGNdyiOJ_gB1jBuo7TdOJkabAlGm6LosLfq9DfeSCAchJQbBFxwiWygY7_ryGpfKrKE5nDMUUSA4gT9Li4Rj3UBNURAle-aqctFngCD5oT0/s400/e314_1_b.jpg" border="0" /><br />This is the best I got from Google images…the one we had was much smaller..;-P</div>mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-81121645506828810652009-09-27T08:51:00.001+02:002009-09-27T09:12:43.226+02:00Hide and SeekThe big wooden almirah was the favourite hiding place for James when he played hide-n-seek with his brothers and cousins. It was one great place to hide….Mundane and non-descript at a corner in the big bedroom at the old house tucked amidst the thick foliage of tree at his native in <em>Neliampathy</em>. He would climb inside the biggest cabinet and lock himself up…. waiting until he could hear someone unlucky getting caught in the game…Once he closed himself in the almirah, the silence and darkness inside would heighten the thrill of the game. There was a small crevice inside the almirah through which he could see what’s happening outside…The power to see when others could not see you…he really relished that…But otherwise the brief moments inside the almirah was to crawl on top of the neatly ironed sarees inhaling the scent of cuticura talc which seems to linger always in that part of the room…A deeper sniff he could even smell the perfume which seems not to have worn off from the heap of clothes inside …<br /><br /><em>“mone.…James ee …go and take bath”</em><br /><br />He could hear mom shouting from the kitchen…damn it….now of all the time, he sighed.…<br /><br />He crouched silently inside the Almirah ignoring the warning from Amma….<br /><br />It seems that Anto had finished counting and was already searching for them… Freddie would definitely be hiding behind the door in Ammachi’s room…and would easily be caught soon….He smiled satisfied with his own better calculations in choosing a much safer spot to hide…After all his cleverness and astuteness were known in the family….Thomas might be hiding under the bed in Appachen’s room….And as always his younger brother Philip would be in the same room as himself behind the huge suitcase….But no one was safe and secure as James himself…<br /><br />It had been more than two minutes and seems like everyone was still safe in their places so far…<br /><br />James relaxed a bit and started exploring the almirah….He could feel Appa’s watch and wallet somewhere….He could feel a bunch of keys hidden somewhere under the sari’s….But he kept them back soon for fear of creating any noise which might attract Deepu into the room…Through the little crack he could even see Philip cowering almost as if he was trying to hold his breath like Jerry hiding from Tom….he chuckled thinking about it..<br /><br />Appa was sitting in the hall watching television with a friend of his… They were drinking something called whisky and talking loud….Appa sometimes become very happy after drinking or sometimes very angry….James wondered what kind of a juice was that anyways…..<br /><br />What was that sound!!<br /><br />James could see Deepu walking in...one step at a time…James held his breath…though each step he took inside the room did not make even a whimper of a sound, James felt each a thunder….Deepu was looking under the bed and was checking the bathroom as well….James could see Philip but now crouched, like he was doing number two…And then Philip started walking towards James …<br /><br />Eeshoyeee…he will open it now!!!<br /><br />That’s when Amma came into the room and scolded Deepu for making a mess outside in the garden earlier in the day….Deepu went out of the room in a hurry and James could finally breathe…<br /><br /><br />Now Appa was shouting at Amma…..He began chuckling watching Amma getting scolded for him not taking the bath….<br /><br />Amma was in a hurry as James could see her hurrying to the kitchen after cleaning up the bed…On the way Amma shouted again…<br /><br /><em>“James ee…Go and take bath…I ll get angry at you”<br /></em><br />But then there was someone who was angry at her too….Appa was furious that beef fry was still not ready…And James heard Amma running from the kitchen to serve him the goddamn beef….He could smell it from here…and James was getting hungry….<br /><br />Now Appa was in the room…His shirt was unbuttoned and an unlit cigarette was loosely hanging from his lips…He took a matchbox from the table drawer and left the room…<br /><br />Wait…James could hear someone shouting….<br /><br />Yes…Thomas has just been caught…He wanted to tell Philip but he seems almost frozen behind the suitcase….<br /><br />It was almost 5 minutes now…James was sure Thomas and Freddie had been caught…but he waited…<br /><br />Amma came to the room again and she was exhausted it seemed…And Appa came again into the room….He lighted a cigarette and was walking back…when Amma stopped him…<br /><em><br />“Could you find James …He has still not taken a bath…and I have got work in the kitchen”</em><br /><br />Appa’s eyes were red now….James was quite worried dad would search for him soon…But instead something else happened…<br /><br /><em>“Who me…”</em> Appa moved closer to Amma and asked mocking at her…<br /><br />James had seen Appa getting angry before…But this was different…….<br /><br /><em>“That little weasel is your son….the liability you bought along… Don’t expect me to be his Dad when I am not…! “…..</em>Dad hissed at Amma in front of his eyes…<br /><br />Amma slumped on the chair and James could see tears trickling down her eyes…and a desperate attempt to fight back sobs hidden inside for long…..That was a sad woman who was slaved to exist… a resigned existence enclosed in a shroud of a untold past ….Amidst all ado he saw Philip running out and fighting with Deepu…Over the shouting, through the crevice James could see Amma wiping of her tears as Dad went away…but the tears did not stop… Deepu was shouting that the game was over as everyone was caught….and saying James need not worry about searching others for the next round…<br /><br />But James was worried….Worried that he found himself…and nowhere to hide from the truth…With closed eyes he reclined his head to the little crevice…it was pitch dark anyways.…<br /><br />The game was over.mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-20852219465586900862009-09-17T09:33:00.001+02:002009-09-17T09:36:05.760+02:00Why you should smile....<a href="http://ithinksoann.blogspot.com/2009/09/smile.html">http://ithinksoann.blogspot.com/2009/09/smile.html</a>mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-6848339144895081502009-09-08T11:37:00.005+02:002009-09-08T13:02:39.253+02:00Prost!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDR6G8wFohuHeSBnpa2zT0ppNnGXNhw-A8X0Gq5a4JDExBFVOh2dIch9xbknqC_fD4bgrLcNYdUausbDAe9rpZ-F1HDIp5bExikYU82X26fYetwt_TL4FaAXgGIMts1Ylh3aZH/s1600-h/134332.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379050219252756770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 284px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 328px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDR6G8wFohuHeSBnpa2zT0ppNnGXNhw-A8X0Gq5a4JDExBFVOh2dIch9xbknqC_fD4bgrLcNYdUausbDAe9rpZ-F1HDIp5bExikYU82X26fYetwt_TL4FaAXgGIMts1Ylh3aZH/s400/134332.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><br /><br /><br />Oh dear !!<br />when you are near<br />Aint no fear.<br /><br />Oh beer!!<br />You are<br />so dear<br />Bring on more cheer!!<br />~<br /><em>Nietzsche</em><br /><br />My beloved beer, I sometimes get so overwhelmed emotionally when I sing the song that it leaves me in tears. Beer has always been a <em>lager</em> than life figure for me… My dear friends, today I would like to share with you the qualities of a beverage that makes life all the more meaningful…all the more purposeful…People say some times the existence of sun, rainbows, flowers…. are signs that God exists…But like someone said I feel the same when I see a mug of chilled beer….<br /><br />Even in biblical passages the importance of beer has been elaborately described as you know from a wedding which happened at Bishop Pereira hall in Galilee….Several barrels of water were converted to nectarous beer by the Lord when there was a shortage of beer at the reception party…Though the French might argue it was wine, its quite obvious that it was beer since the incident happened at Cana from where the can beer originated. Moreover archeologist have recently discovered ancient mugs with a kingfisher label on it disapproving the skeptics.<br /><br />Nevertheless let me explain to you the influence of beer in contemporary times…esp. in Germany where I currently stay and more importantly coz Germany and Beer are like Bread and Butter or say BJP and Jinnah !!<br /><br />Any self-respecting beer aficionado would admit that the best beer in the world comes from Germany and its influence in the social fabric of this wonderful country is paramount…burp!! Due to the terrific social security coverage provided here, every new born in Germany is entitled to 6 mugs of beer every day from the day he/she is born. A vital nourishment of necessary proteins, carbohydrates and vitamins during the growing phase of a child…And unlike in India, employees are immediately dismissed if they are found attending office without the influence of beer which is considered gross violation of office ethics. Beer is also the medium of a barter exchange system which has been followed in Germany for several years...Roughly speaking, 3 barrels of good quality Bavarian beer can fetch you a Porsche 911….It was only a few months ago Lufthansa offered me a ticket to India in exchange for a case of beck’s beer. Advanced society it is, but unknown to the outside world is the bane of this country….the dowry system which is deeply rooted in the german psyche…Parents of poor german Heidi Klums have to work hard in the best days of their life to save euros for one beer brewery and a pair of lederhosen …the often acceptable dowry for a young Wolfgang!!…<br /><br />The german beer is also famous for its excellent nutritive qualities….Consumption in large quantities can increase the intelligences of humans manifold…For e.g.…history has shown that Albert Einstein derived the formula e=mc² during one such binge drinking sessions at a beer hall in Munich….Renewed interest by researchers have lead scientists to notice that a Indian who has been residing in Germany for past 3 years(for privacy reasons person chooses to remain anonymous) started exhibiting remarkable intelligence previously never noticed…. Scientist in his home country and his parents especially consider it as a miracle of sorts… Press reporters contacted the brother of the alleged genius and they could only decipher a furious person shouting...”schmuck!!!!!!!!!”<br /><br />To mark this event, the German chancellor has recently announced plans to honour another Indian Mr. Mallya for spreading the cheer across the world…He would be honored with a doctorate at the University of Potsdam for noteworthy contributions to the general state of bliss in people around parts of Asia….In a touching speech Angela Merkel told the press that she was so chilled to meet the Kingfisher from India and wished him good times in the years to come. As a reciprocatory humanitarian gesture Mr. Mallya spend several hours at a Kindergarten near Berlin narrating witty stories of Beerbal and AkBAR to the thrilled kids …<br /><br />Talking about other influences of beer, its an integral part of the german cuisine … German Kanji which is basically rice soaked in beer and allowed to ferment overnight is a delicacy in this part of the world…smells wonderful the next day!!. This is though served only on celebratory occasions like demise of a mother-in-law or a divorce!! Beer is also very good if you are interested in indo-german cooking…One of my favorite indo-german meal is sausage thoran with rice and sambhar cooked in beer…Well if you want to be a tad adventurous you could try beer payasam too...Though I have never tried it coz I don’t experiment too much with recipes..<br /><br />Nevertheless, it is heartening to see the benefits of beer touch lives in Germany…though sometimes knocking over….In the field of sports…street fights….and even medicine!! Beer is administered using intravenous fluid injections to treat cancer, AIDS, swine flu and cardio vascular diseases bringing care to millions of sick people….Devotees swarm at Munich every October to pay homage and take a dip in a barrel of beer which is supposed to have therapeutic effect to the mind and soul. I hope to make it one day….<br /><br />It is unfortunate that there are many non-believers in the world whose anti-beer propaganda is causing deep anguish in us….And what all they say…. beer belly…whisky is better….beer smell is a turn off….blasphemy!! well what shall I say …<br /><br />Grab a beer…or rather get a life!!<br /><br />Prost!! :-)</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>p.s pic courtesy </em></span><a href="http://www.demandstudios.com/"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>www.demandstudios.com</em></span></a></div>mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-69657815406611103552009-09-02T22:17:00.003+02:002009-09-02T22:26:06.842+02:00flashback...Today out of sheer curiosity I checked the sent items from my mail box…sent items which were around three years old…Below are excerpts from mail communication which happened back then….<br /><br />The mail below was the first one I send to home my relatives…forgive the poorly constructed sentences as it was meant to be a mail to be shared only with my family…some of my sentences are embarassing..i hope you can excuse me for that...;-P<br /><br /><span style="color:#000099;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><em><span style="color:#000099;">After a really mad rush to buy to stuff before leaving, I finally reached blore on the 2nd of September. September third was onam feast at jimmy chachan’s place. And we were treated to some excellent delicacies by Lissy aunty...And then we played caroms with Ann and Tessa along with jimmy chachan, ravi chettan and Baby...In the evening Amma,ravi chettan and baby dropped me at the airport…On the way we dropped at a church to pray for a safe journey...and thankfully it worked out!!<br /><br />The flight from Bombay to Charles de Gaulle airport was magnificent bcoz we had all sort of gizmos in the flight..movies.music...champagne n all. Although the flight was 9 hours long I hardly slept for 3 hours as I was more pumped with adrenalin anticipating for a glimpse of Europe...It was enchanting to see sunrise from top of the world. Finally reached Paris at 7.45 am and had my own time to spare bcoz my next flight was only at 11.50 am. Spend that time marveling the beautiful airport..<br /><br />The third leg of my trip was less exciting bcoz I was pretty tired bcoz of lack of sleep.And I slept through the flight from Paris to Hamburg.<br /><br />And I finally stepped on Hamburg airport. I just cant help but recall the famous Neil Armstrong quote..A small step for Chekku but a giant leap for my dreams...hehehe..<br /><br />And then just like Dasan in naadodikaatu I waved for a taxi and there comes a Mercedes Benz right in front of me..That was a bolt from the blue when I saw that most taxis here are top end luxury cars back home..reached my hotel in 15 min..But I guess that covered about 20 kms..Everything moves fast out here..My hotel is a small dingy room with all basic features..Nothing much to explain about..<br /><br />I had lunch at 3 pm from a Indian restaurant near the hotel and spend about an hour roaming the places around the hotel.Evening ,I visited the residence of my boss and Had dinner from his place..So day 1 was kind of easing myself to hamburg climate ..<br /><br /><br />Day 2<br /><br />Met a Indian colleague of mine in office and her briefed about the work n stuff..<br />I couldn’t meet my sahippu boss bcoz he had gone to Toulouse, France that day..<br /><br />On Thursday I finally met my Sahippu boss and he will help me out with all work related things..<br />Meanwhile evenings I spend moving around the streets in hamburg..Took a tourist ferry which showed all the narrow waterways in Hamburg. They looked like Venice for me..<br />By the way Hamburg is the 2nd biggest port in Europe so its kinda place where lot of foreigners come..<br /><br />Now I have started searching for a house here bcoz I cant stay in a hotel for long..Moreover I cant start a bank account /get a resident permit and get a mobile connection only after I find a house..So that the story till now…<br /><br />The climate here is excellent ..15-20 deg max…Although its going to snow in the coming months..Thats the part am looking forward to..<br /><br />Guess this is the biggest letter I have written ever…Neways thanx a lot for the prayers and wishes..<br /><br />Love<br />chekku</span><br /></em><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><em><span style="color:#666600;">Today i got some free time in office.<br />The initial days of boredom (coz of absence of work) are over. Nowadays am in full throttle at work place...and time runs by fast.. Here its pretty cold now…occasionally dropping to minus temperatures…fortunately the sweaters and jackets help me keep cozy...Once you are inside house there isn’t any problem coz we switch on the heaters. Since its winter now. Sun rises at around 7.45 am and its dark by 4.30 pm...I found it strange that there is hardly any time with proper daylight during winter. The 'fall' part was awesome ..In a matter of weeks...the leaves turned into a hue of colors...yellow...orange…etc…until all of em fell down...In a matter of weeks the trees are left with just the trunk and branches..<br /><br />Pinee regarding the food part...breakfast is usually some quick fix on weekdays…sandwiches…fruits...corn flakes...leftover chappatis...Lunch time I take something from the canteen in office...Some occasional spurts of adventurism encourages me to try out the german dishes…Though the chicken/pork/fish which they make has little or no spice...they are quite edible. Deserts are somehow what make things attractive for me...esp. the puddings.. Am having some variety of pudding with fruit salads almost daily...And then you have potato engineered into different forms...french fires...baked potato…steamed potato.. and then 100's of breads of different shape and size...so that more or less makes up my lunch..<br /><br />Veetil timepass is TV...internet...adventurous cooking...I can infact watch Asianet through internet…So at times i get to catch up a few movies in it.. Last week i made fish fry and fish molly...I got the recipe for Fish Molly from the net and tried it out...Although it might not have been exactly fish Molly after i prepared ,it came close to a Fish Susanna or something!! :) ..I had all the things to make the curry except curry leaves. so it did not turnout bad actually...And my andhrite roommate brings up some hot n spicy Andhra dishes which am liking….Food is now not a big headache as i expected!!</span><br /></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">Read your letter with more details. Still we all are eager to know more and more about Germany and your life there. Any problem in communication outside office? How is your boss? Have you got freedom to write personal letters at the office? What about your washing and ironing? Did the pickle stain go from your shirts? Are there people helping you find a house? Giving suggestions?<br />I am very very slow in typing. Still I plan to send an e-mail to you on alternate days. I have taken leave for tomorrow as I have so much work to be completed. Yesterday Daddy and Aunty were here. We played cards for sometime. Special items were cutlets, manga chammandi, and semia payasam. How do you like German food? Hope your life is tension free and the work or training you have is manageable. .. </span></em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em><span style="color:#cc0000;"><br />My dear Chekku<br />Necessity is the mother of invention and as such I somewhat learnt how to e-mail. Very happy to hear that U are comfortable there. U must have started procedures to settle yourself . Praying God that you may tide over difficulties (if any) successfully. Conveniences of the hotel you are staying-like an average Indian hotel room? food available? cost of living? How many more days can u stay at the hotel? xxxx will pay the bill?After U get internet connection U will know news about India and Kerala?<br /><br />lots of love<br />Amma</span></em><br /><br /><em><span style="color:#663366;"><br />Hi Chetta,<br />Hope u r enjoying life with beers. Have you substituted it for water. By now you must have watched all the DVD's that you had taken there. Did you get to visit that Nazi concentration camp? If not, would be nice if u buy a digital cam so that we can also have a glimpse of that and also other places u plan to visit during your stay.</span></em><br /><br /><em><span style="color:#993300;">My dear Chekku,<br />We are all very much relieved that you started staying in a house and there is a Malayalee staying with you.. How is your new residence? Facilities? Accessibility to traffic? Can you have one room for yourself? Rent? Advance?<br />Regarding recipes:<br /><br />I CHICKEN MASALA:<br />Chicken - 1 kg<br />Tomato -3<br />Masala powder: Use the powder taken from here (3 tablespoons)<br />Ginger paste (1 teaspoon) or if pieces 1/2 tablespoon<br />Small onions (chopped)-10, or 2 big onions<br />Garlic - 6 pieces<br />Salt to taste<br />Oil (as required, max. 1.5 tablespoon)<br /><br />Method-<br />Heat oil in a kadai (or pressure cooker) and sauté the onions, garlic and ginger. When the aroma starts from the mixture, add the paste of the masala powders and fry in low flame. Add the chopped tomatoes and fry for a while. Now add the chicken pieces and salt and cook with the vessel closed. Put the weight of the cooker and increase the flame. When 1st whistle is heard, lower the flame and keep for 15 mins more. Now the chicken curry is ready.<br /><br /><br />You can make modifications according to the flops you make. As your housemate knows cooking you can consult him. Is it common or self cooking?<br /><br />Is it training or work for you now? How is it? No tension? Manageable? Are you getting letters from your friends? Expecting long letters from you.<br />with lots of love<br />AAB.<br /></span></em></span><br />When I read these mails I was chuckling….laughing when I think about how much I have changed and how much the people around me have changed as well…the curiousity to know how I was adjusting to a new life and culture....Today I finish my three years in Germany…..It has been a roller coaster of a ride….I can still remember my first flight…my first drive in a Mercedes taxi…my first stay in a hotel alone…..my first time talking to a non-Indian….my first time having a meal with knife and fork….there were so many new and first things which happened in the month of September three year ago…..I remember that the day before the flight we celebrated onam at my uncle’s place in Bangalore….I think I was not really tense for some reason and I really don’t know why I was not….probably I was too overwhelmed by the turn of events….But today in office...everything was déjà vu…when I opened the door (used to get confused big-time the initial days coz in India we pull the door to open unlike here…), when I had lunch with colleagues with knife and fork (I was trying to sneak a glance how others did it during those initial lunches), when I said hello to my german colleague (apprehension about how to interact with a european colleague)…. It indeed was a learning experience for me all these years….<br /><br />Thanks to all of you for keeping wonderful company in the blogworld…thanks to my friends and relatives who kept checking on me for the last three years…thanks to my parents…thanks to the Indian community in Hamburg…thanks to my german friends and colleagues…and thanks to Deutschland for being a wonderful host country and teaching me a lot!!! :)mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-52559220251958094752009-09-01T10:22:00.004+02:002009-09-01T10:26:36.819+02:00Happy Onam and a bloglinkWell its the time of the year for all malayalees to celebrate and spend time with family, buy new clothes and enjoy the fabulous sadya....Wishing you all a happy onam....I have been blogging much less these days, but I got something good to read....My aunt who is retired English professor is a excellent writer, a great chef and above all a wonderful person...Recently on her 60th birthday, her kids gifted a printed book which contained most of the articles, poems or speeches written by her. Although I was promised a copy of the book I was too curious to read it and got the soft copy from my cousin...And true to the spirit of a blogger, I could not resist putting them in a blog and share the work to you...The entire content of the book was copied to this blog (<a href="http://daisyluke.blogspot.com/">http://daisyluke.blogspot.com/</a>).. The contents are a eclectic mix of poems, thoughts and speeches...And the language is great true to the skills of a English professor who was teaching for 35 years !!! So this blog is a onam gift to all of you!! Thanks to my aunt!! :-)<br /><br />HAPPY ONAM FRIENDS.........mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17003953.post-62436974076926992342009-08-18T17:36:00.003+02:002009-09-15T20:58:51.097+02:00Hochzeit* im HamburgLast weekend I was lucky to attend a wedding in town…Normally I wouldn’t have reasons to be tense attending a wedding coz am usually accompanying someone …Back home my parents would take care of the pleasantries while attending the wedding…or if its with friends we usually never bother about the pleasantries part…means we directly go for the kill at the feast…But this wedding was way different.<br /><br />1) It was happening in Germany european ishtyle and I had no clue about the customs ..<br />2) I did not have an acquaintance with most folks who were invited to the function.<br />3) Unlike a panchayat which is roughly the size invited for a Indian wedding this was a wedding attended by 100 odd people…That meant you couldn’t just have your sausage and beer and go unnoticed.<br /><br />So there was me suffering pre-wedding jitters…or rather pre-wedding attendance trauma…It also meant I had to do my research…Unlike back home where you could walk in to a wedding wearing your old jeans and ‘Che Guevara’ t-shirt. I was haunted by movie scenes from western weddings where men and women of fine tastes strutted around in elegant costumes… And occasionally I have seen some weddings here royal style with a horse driven carriage and all that…Everyone for that matter looked like a James Bond or a Wall Street Banker, polished and suave…That meant I had to actually ‘think’ about what I wear…<br /><br />Do you have any idea how traumatizing its for an invitee at the wedding to choose his dress??…Someone who normally takes a decent looking polo T shirt from the nearest shop suddenly found himself walking in and out of most shops in Hamburg…The journey finally culminated at Karstadt where a german shop attender at the shop literarily pacified me..<br /><br /><em>‘Herr Mathias. Das ist nicht your wedding...kaiko tension le raha hein!!!’</em><br /><br /><em>kasam se</em>...he said that!!<br /><br />Finally after research which included lot of wiki-ing, visiting the State library of German Weddings, meeting marriage- divorce consultants, attending self-help groups, secretly filming weddings around town, subscribing to fashion magazines, attending a Versace memorial lecture on trends of 2009, placing calls to fashionably blessed people in Italy, writing anonymous letter to Vanitha magazine seeking guidance, praying and lighting 100 candles at the nearby church requesting the Lord to give me a sign, I finally decided to go for a white shirt and a yorn trouser. A small yet significant step.<br /><br />The next step was to buy a gift. Well in India buying a gift is so easy… coz you don’t really to have buy one…You just need to pass on the 45th dinner set or the 26th clock which is stocked at home after the house warming function which happened way back in 1990. If you look at India from space, you can basically see that the gifts are never bought, it just gets circulated among the masses from Patiala to Pune to Palakkad and back to son of the Patiala family several years later. But then this is no India…What normally happens here is that the couple would have a list of preferred gifts put up in a popular shop in town where invitees can put their money in full or part if its an expensive gift…This would mean no duplication of gifts!! This couple though had no such list which meant I had to do my espionage to find out what they might actually like as a gift. The process was quite similar to my dress search but slightly less strenuous.. and primarily based on online consultation. It seems like most people like Mont Blanc pens or Swarovski crystals!! L After some path breaking research it was found that the couple were better off with euros than a self-help cook book which I was planning to pen down specially for the occasion. Another small and yet significant step over.<br /><br /><strong>Aug 15th 2009 The D-day</strong><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga_Jay0vx7MLBYodz_LkdenL9xMeNT0e5Dpc1ltf698BboqVTOsfIzBUCJB3sga8TpmIrvyCJP4z2uXHId4x3alNlP0q8QAvuZNAPy_UMQdGuMX85_uZhlKJ4WG8i6XQBoDNcL/s1600-h/DSCN3598.JPG"></a><br />As I woke up I knew it was a very important day in my life…something which could change my life forever.…After grooming myself (I must have shaved 3 times in 2 hrs for continuous harvesting of any concurrently sprouting facial hair), I stepped out of home for the big event. I took the S-bahn (metro) to St Theresa’s church where the bride had just arrived. All around were Reid and Taylor James Bond’s in various hues and colours….bald malayalee James Bond’s, not so bald malayalee James Bond’s, fat malayalee James Bond’s, not so fat malayalee James Bond’s , old Bond’s and new Bond’s, all kinds and I was there in my shirt and trouser.. For the first time in my life I felt like being naked in public inspite of being fully clothed… eww…My mind wandered to a scene from a famous malayalam movie…<em>”ithu pole simple dress itta purushanmare penkuttikalkku ishtam alle…don’t they like</em>” I looked up in the sky just for that sign from god…luckily there were no crows in Germany.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlbBa_FMR2fe-O_3ZQBLEmqihzJiiP7ZH4BpYLdxhHDyeui80H6YbgRZkP12LGqdJT0fwzo9pf1cLaEmRVlYmv4K4orcqoZbS1m7Pt7R3o30pOioytsM97Awwh0okONJSgFHZ9/s1600-h/DSCN3605.JPG"></a><br />After sometime the arrival of similarly clad germans gave me much needed relief…after all I was not the only one…Inside the church the wedding went smooth…As usual I did lip-sync to german hymns…just making a feeble noise whenever the word ‘<em>Got</em> (God)’ came up….But I think my acting skills were good enough to make me look like a Pavarotti in a passionate stance… Well I forgot to mention the couple…They were two german malayalee sisters getting married to german guys….so it was a double wedding…and indo-german…Of amusement to many were the part of incorporating Indian traditions in the wedding…one of the brides wore a saree...there were malayalam songs….seemati saree exchange…and exchange of thali…Though I think the germans got confused coz they were more familiar with chicken thali at the Indian restaurants than wedding thali…The detailed explanation from the priest saved the day.. Outside the church we had champagne to celebrate the day… Meanwhile I met some familiar faces and made acquaintances in the meantime...<br /><br />By 18:30 we were at the nearby restaurant for the reception.. The reception reminded me of a scene back home when only the well-abled gatecrashers would have meal in the first rounds after the wedding…People usually have to prepare days in advance for it…Its funny to see peoples faces during the mad rush…torn between voices saying…”<em>maintain decorum maintain decorum</em>” and the rest saying...”<em>food…food...go grab it idiot</em>”…It’s a internal emotional struggle in which people finally succumb to the food…Well here the weddings usually are very small...often the invites don’t number more than 2 dozens….And the great part is there is already a seat in your name at the hall….So its like you already have advanced booking...<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20DK3dmof-rUryDBgj8sJuHPLYVOacTx7KuVhf1ZrGuisuWw0qd4zaTszl4Oq8dPkkolK4KtKxjN3nzI9pQl5tw721w0AqDJmQahQO9oukrMqhQVsS4XwpFeJOcxEuDyqwkZo/s1600-h/DSCN3610.JPG"></a><br />There were customary toasts from the grooms…which were so funny coz i noticed everyone was laughing and then the wine started flowing….and soon then the food was ready to be served….Classic Indian fare….and though less spicy it was really nice…fried rice..chicken..beef..noodles...<br /><br />By 10:30 I had enough food and wine that germans around me nodded in agreement saying…you are one of us now… It was a lifelong ambition to meet german consumption standards… In the meantime I even met a malayalee who had come down for the wedding from US and turned out to a fella from the neighbourhood in my native….again reaffirming the age old truth that all mallus know each other… Pleasant to observe was that there was no Indian “tradition” of sporting kilograms of gold or blatant display of wealth…Everyone were really having a good time…<br /><br />And then the DJ started playing music….And the couple started dancing ball room style…I was seeing something like that for the first time in my life and the last time I saw a dance was ‘appadi podu kandale’ during a college skit…I noticed that this kind of dance is slightly different…The dancing made all the german couple come out to savor the moment…even arthritis ridden german <em>appachen</em>’s and ammachis started swaying to the music…The <em>Appachen</em>’s danced with bride as well...Though it was funny to see one 7 foot 300 pounder dancing with the poor bride holding her as if she was like a loose thread…just picture yourself dancing with the <em>great Khali!!!</em> Nevertheless I never dared shaking a leg with the crowd considering the serious embarrassment it could cause to our nation and the bigger picture of indo-german bilateral relations.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzZ53UkiEwhu3rqUZk4-g2zy6ceI2fgflYwt1ryqwHtN5YqTeudjaj9fCnHdCbHOxoDy1RnOC2Ii5cAE6Izi442X_TwqG6uSA-mAeocKWvsfmFBLD1l8H0tA_93qPXvp5sBwqA/s1600-h/DSCN3622.JPG"></a><br />Oh and btw all along people were consuming copious quantities of liquor…there was a small bar which was set up outside…And it was a chance for me to express my solidarity with Cuba Libre and deep appreciation for white Russians....By midnight the wedding cake was cut…and surprisingly I had enough space in my stomach for a huge chunk of marzipan cake…mighty proud of you my boy!! (a small pat to my tummy)<br /><br />And around 1:00 am there was the bouquet throwing ceremony…there was a almost a stampede of deutsche Frau’s to catch em...and the music continued….sometimes with small breaks for some video slides of old times...or little games…..At 3:30 am…everyone are out in the open to mark the closing ceremony…they light some kind of hot air balloon and the couple sends them up in the sky…Quite a treat to watch them..<br /><br />At 4:00 am…I met the couple and gave them advice on how to live further…<br /><em>Johannes…you shall not drink if your wife objects…<br />Daniel..*hush*....Tell Johannes the beer is behind the car.....</em><br /><br />I think I was very statesmanlike and the couple looked upto me for valuable advice on things in general...like how to lead a noble life...and like that.....At 4:30 am I was on my way home in the metro…The train passes through Reeperbahn…one of the famous red light areas in Europe…and there was a flood of late partying folks entering the train…some clothed partially due to scarcity of clothes in german party scene …most of them had lot of metal parts protruding on their faces….nose rings...ear rings…great hair styles...Mohawks…and outlandish costumes....leather stirrups...<br /><br />And I was there, the only soul in that coach…neatly combed, wearing a full sleeve shirt neatly tucked to the trouser and sporting polished shoes…you know how it feels to be dressed like that in a coach full of drunk hippies!!;-D<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>*wedding</em></span>mathewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00860741232962357228noreply@blogger.com57