Saturday 27 June 2015

RUMBLINGS OF A TRAUMATIZED TUMMY


Kudi kendi pehle Jaguar ley lo
Fir jinna chahe pyaar ley lo

What’s that?
It’s Surender’s phone ring tone.
Who’s Surender?
Our taxi wallah for the trip.
Oh..ok…funny ring tone..asking the poor fellow to buy a Jaguar car first for my love. Where are we heading for?
Pal Dhaba…it is here that the proud Chandigarh entertained the Canadian PM to dinner in an authentic dhaba. This GK fact was given by Surender.
What are we eating there?
Butter chicken with 14 big pieces, butter naan and lassi.
You fool why don’t you have the lassi with butter as well…you relish the food and I have to suffer.
As I chewed butter chicken, you could get the real flavor of butter and well marinated chicken. It was simply delicious.
Arrey bus bhi kar…kitna khayega bhai…digest toh mujhe karna padega…

After the wonderful lunch we were on our way to Amritsar. It was a long drive and made longer by a traffic jam caused by an examination being held at Lovely University. Surender told us Lovely Univ was set up by a Halwai…sweet shop owner from Jallandhar who was famous all over Punjab. He made so much money that he set up a college and now a university out of it.
Lovely University…lovely name…funny
It’s not funny. Every day they air TV commercials and show how modern a place it is with skating rink and bowling alleys.
So do they teach students how to make sweets there?
That’s not funny…they teach students every discipline from engineering to management.
We are stopping for some snacks at Haveli…it’s a huge place with village like appearance and everything to eat.
Don’t eat anything now. Can’t you hear the rumble of the butter chicken in me…
I listened to the inner voice or should I say the advice given by my stomach and just had a chocolate ice cream while clicking pictures with traditionally dressed Punjabi dancers.

Kudi kendi pehle Jaguar ley lo
Fir jinna chahe pyaar ley lo
Haanji…ab asi Amritsar pahunch gaye.
Have heard so much about the food of Amritsar so let us go to Bharawan Da Dhaba.
Areey have some simple dal roti and go to sleep for today…don’t spoil your trip to the Golden Temple tomorrow with this unending gorging bout of yours.
We instead landed next to Bharawan to Big Brothers Dhaba and ordered methi paneer and special Amritsari firni.
Hey this is very different…palak paneer we’ve had before but never methi paneer…this is nice Big Brother.

At 2am the alarm went off and we got dressed silently to go to the Golden Temple. By 2.30am we were there expecting to be the first entrants through the Holy Gates….alas we were mistaken…badly and sadly mistaken….there were people and people and people all over…some awake, some sleeping on the floor and some cleaning the temple complex. As we walked towards the gate to Harmandir Sahib, we started getting pushed around….one push and we stepped ahead a few steps and the reverse swing took us back even further from where were started….hordes and hordes of people of all hues and sizes. After 45 minutes of getting squeezed from all directions, we just walked out of the sea of humanity, jumped a barricade and felt a sense of relief. It was Somwaar ki Amavasya which is very auspicious and so the mad rush at the temple.

Where are you going…you promised to have the kada prasad at the Golden Temple…better get me some of it now.
I looked around to see a section of the temple where people were standing in queue and coming out with prasad. I handed M a hundred rupee note and asked her to stand in the ladies queue while I stood in the other. My turn came first and after getting a receipt I got a plate full of halwa or kada prasad with ghee sprinkled all over. I quickly walked across to pull M out of the queue saying there was enough prasad in one plate and we will never be able to finish two. As we looked for a place to eat the halwa, we were told by an elderly man…jao line mein khadey ho jao…in short we had to go back in the mad rush to enter Harmandir Sahab and this prasad was not for our eating but offering it to the temple….
No, no we can’t go back there. Please help us.
The old man took pity and we handed over the plate to another sikh couple who had the courage to bear the brunt of the crowd…faith prevails when all fails.
No, I want to have the kada prasad and am not going without it.
Baba ji where can we get some prasad?
The old man took us to a lucky lady who emerged after Darshan and asked for a little prasad, she readily offered, we thanked her and tasted the prasad….simply heavenly.
Aaah…this was real good man…wish you had some more of it.
No, this is all what we managed.
You’re selfish..what you want you eat and eat and when it comes to me, you’re so frugal.
We stayed there till 7 am seeing the temple change colours as day broke…from darkness to dawn to bright sunshine.

What’s for breakfast?
Aloo parantha with chunks of butter on top and a bowl full of dahi.
Don’t eat so much butter…do you know your age?
You only live once and in Punjab the water is so good that everything gets digested quickly. We ate and ate and then quickly went on to take a small nap before getting ready for the big day at Wagah Border.

Kudi kendi pehle Jaguar ley lo
Fir jinna chahe pyaar ley lo
Surender dropped us at the main market place and gave us a brief map of how to reach Kesar da Dhaba. His explanation failed and so did Google map…somehow we reached the place…it was an old simple place with no modern amenities. We slumped on the wooden bench and asked for the menu…the world famous Kesar Dhaba started in 1916..99 years ago. We went for gobi and paneer parantha and famous lassi.
Don’t have the pickle…you’re bound to fall sick…you’re not used to so much parantha…you are a Bangali used to maach bhaat and here you are ill treating me. Soon your gelusil will give way to norfloxacin if you continue at this rate.
How can I give these places a miss…they say Amritsar is a foodie’s paradise…let me eat now, will think of the medicine when the time comes.
We relished the food and the lassi with malai on top was simple mind blowing. With our full tank we embarked on a patriotic mission to Wagah Border. Fortunately a friend had arranged for the VIP passes and we sat there…this time with only water to drink my stomach got the break it was looking for. Wagah was a tamasha…just like in Sunny Deol’s movies…lots of sound and antics and people for once showing their true love for Bharat Mata.

On our way back it was dinner time. We were hungry again. Of all the options we had at Amritsar, like true Bengali we chose to go to Makhan Fish and let me tell you with all honesty the pheesh phry was something I will give phool marks to Makhan ji. This was followed by chicken bharta and tandoori roti. By now the sounds below the lungs started growing louder…simple rumbling, louder gurgling…every sound you could hear but dil maange more

Went to sleep but got up after sometime with the acidic feeling.
See I told you…you wouldn’t listen and now you suffer…I am sick…completely sick, you fool.
We’ll see tomorrow. No reason to panic now. Let me sleep now..you always exaggerate.

Next morning the noises grew louder. As I sat on Hindware the danger now was real….went in 3 times in quick succession. Phew! Took NorfloxTZ tablet and woke up M. We were to leave for Chandigarh in the morning but wouldn’t leave Amritsar without having the Amritsari kulcha…so off we went to Big Brothers Dhaba and ordered for the ultimate dish, Amritsari Kulcha.
Bhai marwayega tu…Norflox ke saath kulchey choley…sitting with a doctor, God Bless you.
The food was just out of this world and bravely I finished the huge kulcha.
Should I have a second? I asked.
No…No don’t you dare…Stop now before I explode.

So I listened to the voice below and climbed on to the taxi. As we reached Chandigarh, our last stop was Tehal Singh Chicken…smooth and delicious…enjoyed every morsel…ended with a full strip of NorflozTZ but no regret…it was all pure joy. Amritsar is a true foodie paradise and you might eat off your fingers instead of just licking them…it's heavenly food everywhere, every nook and corner is Ambrosia, food for Gods.
Kudi kendi pehle Amritsari parantha kha lo
Fir jinna chahe medicine ley lo.


SS

Saturday 20 June 2015

DADDY’S COMING HOME TODAY


Daddy’s coming home today
There’s so much excitement in the house
So many people in the house and outside
Uncles Aunts Brothers Sisters Friends and all
For days together there’s so much happening
Everyone’s just being so nice to me
But can’t see Mummy around
She must be preparing a special meal for him
Daddy’s coming home today

Daddy’s coming home today
Why are there so many men with guns
I rush to one of them and ask
Uncle why don’t you fire the gun
Uncle are these toy guns
Uncle my Daddy also has a big gun, a real one
Uncle when I grow up I want a gun too
I want to join the Indian Army
Saavdhaan…thump thump
Do you know Uncle?
Daddy’s coming home today

Daddy’s coming home today
Now I find everyone rushing to the front gate
Daddy must have come home now
Hello there, that’s my Daddy
I want to be the first to see Daddy
But why are you all crying
You are all so funny
Crying in happiness? 
Daddy’s come home today

Daddy’s coming home today
What are these men carrying on their shoulders
Looks like a box, a casket
Wrapped in a cloth of green saffron and white
Flowers and garlands all over
What is this you’ve got
Why are you playing the band
I’m in no mood to dance today
Till I find my Daddy
Why this, Where’s my Daddy?
Daddy was to have come home today

Daddy’s come home today
Mummy is crying
Family is crying
Friends are crying
For someone just told me
Daddy’s in the box lying there
What is he doing inside
Is it a surprise he’s giving me
Is he playing games with me
Daddy you are home today

Daddy’s come home today
They said your Daddy lies within
He will not come out
Not today, not tomorrow
His bullet ridden body
Lies inside all cuddled up
He got 21 bullets on his chest
Far away in the forests of Manipur
A thousand miles away from home
Daddy’s come home today

Daddy’s at home today
The guns are raised
21 guns boom aloud
One for every bullet he faced
Now they are putting him atop
A wooded platform
I walked around with a broken jar
A wooden stick they handed me
A lighted stick was lowered to the wood
A huge fire erupted clouding my Daddy
It’s Daddy’s last day at home today

Daddy will never come home again
A picture on the wall
A garland hung around the frame
An incense stick burning
Daddy’s medals kept with care
Uniform ironed, wrapped, locked away
Mummy in white
Me in school uniform
Studying hard to join the Indian Army
One day I will meet Daddy
Daddy I’ve come home today
Make him feel proud
Daddy’s home with me
Today & Everyday.


SS

Sunday 14 June 2015

The Open Window


No, I do not intend to narrate Saki’s story once again. No one is going to walk through this window. It’s just one of the many things I noticed soon after coming to Mumbai and which has been strengthened further over years of observation.

We normally associate a window as our link with the outside world. We can see patches of the sky in its myriad moods…..the brilliant blue, the dark clouds gathering on a stormy day, and  ,may be ,if you are very lucky ,you may even catch a fleeting glimpse of the sunrise or the sunset against the city’s silhouette. Many a times we have sat with a book in our hands, watching the rain falling against the window pane, and let our minds wander. We watch the streets, the goings and comings of a multitude of men on an idle afternoon from this vantage point. The window has often let us catch the first glimpse of a much awaited friend walking towards the house or even an unwanted guest finding his way cautiously to the front door.

The window is the most chosen place to go and stand near when you are feeling down or lost in your thoughts. It has often helped to clear the overburdened mind or lighten the heavy heart. Ideas have trickled in, tears rolled down, inspirations flooded in while uneasy thoughts have floated out of the favourite window.

For many a pervert a conveniently located window may have even satisfied his voyeuristic desires. But that’s not what caught my attention in Mumbai.

It is in Mumbai that I first learnt that the window is not just for fresh air or the first rays of sun to filter through. It has a higher purpose for its existence. All credit goes to the ingenious Mumbaikar’s mind which is forever calculating the length, breadth and height in a 10x10X10 ft room, which knows how the 5.57pm Borivali is better than the 5.59pm Borivali local, which is never wrong in calculating the exact point to stand on the railway platform and at what angle to hold the head and catch the rod before jumping into the train as it pulls into Churchgate Platform No.3.

For a Mumbaikar the window is what the terrace or courtyard is to a Calcuttan (should I say Kolkatan) or a Delhi-ite. All clothes are put out to dry there! Look up any multistoried building in Mumbai and you will see the most colourful patchwork. The wall followed by the multi-coloured patchwork…again wall..patchwork. They cover up the windows completely using glass shutters or intricate grilles to hang out towels, bed sheets, shirts, sarees  and even Dollar, Lux and VIPs! In monsoon, a blue plastic hangs in front of the window protecting all wares on display from the onslaught of the heavy showers. Who cares for air or light!

In Mumbai the most sought after is the box type window whose grille you can further extend. No, not to sit and admire the view…. or watch the monsoon clouds as they float by. No one in Mumbai can afford the luxury of standing or rather sitting and staring! The extended window grille is used to hold all your unwanted stuff…like a compact store-room. No one knows the value of space better than the man who has to shell out a phenomenal amount to just cover his head in a 1 BHK house. This “storeroom’ can accommodate anything…from extra gas cylinders to bicycles, from old perambulators to ironing boards, from the aluminum ladder to the discarded toy car. Oh how could I forget the pickle jars and the papads which are left on the window sills to soak the sunlight! At times you may find that some have decorated the side panels of these extensions with special bricks and enameled paints to utilize the space for housing the family deities or even the child’s study table.

If a Delhiite can afford a garden with small lawn whose view he enjoys from his French window or a Calcuttan can afford a bonsai garden in his terrace, can the Mumbaikar be far behind! No way! He has his little window which also doubles up as his little garden. Look up and you will notice an array of brown and black plastic pots in various shapes and sizes holding crotons, cacti and at times even roses and bougainvillea. No one can beat the Mumbaikar in his innovativeness! He never complains, never says I do not have the space to have a garden of my own.

For the uninitiated, if you do not know where to put up your hammock in your recently acquired tiny apartment or the huge plastic container your mother sent to hold 20 kg of grain, ask the man from Mumbai. He knows the magic of creating space! He is our space-man!!!


DS

Sunday 7 June 2015

ITALIAN DIARIES PART III- FROM VENICE, WITH LOVE

The last of a trilogy...must be fit for a finale! So I have saved the best for the last!

Welcome aboard the Frecciargento as we head from Florence to Venice, the last stop in our itinerary. Just to prepare you for what you are about to witness, keep looking out of the window...the scene changes dramatically from the serene Tuscan countryside to the blue waters of the Adriatic as you approach Venice’s St. Lucia train terminal. You just step out of the station and the sights and sounds of the floating city are waiting for you.

Venezia

"A realist in Venice, would become a romantic by mere faithfulness to what he saw before him"

Venice is unique in every possible way. It is composed of 118 islands and 384 bridges! Wow, right? Public transport includes buses and taxis...all running on water. They are all boats. The buses are called Vaporretti, cruising over the Grand Canal, ferrying tourists from one station to the other across Venice. The water taxis are motorised boats that can carry about 4-6 people. And then there are the private boats and Gondolas. Cruise liners also make up the skyline of the city along the Grand Canal. There are traffic jams of course...but on the canals! There are virtually no motor vehicles on the roads of Venice. The only wheels you see are on the boards of the little scooties on which the kids make their way to the schools!

“You need not own a boat in Venice...but you must have a pair of good shoes to live here,” Elizabeth, the guide, told our Mother-Daughter duo during the walking tour of Venice. “Our children come home from schools, drop their bags and go off to play in the Campos (Squares) present in every block. The mothers take turns to keep an eye on the younger ones while the older ones play football in another part of the square. As people come to fill water from the water fountains here, they meet each other. So here, everybody knows everybody! We teach one thing to our children from the time they start walking, stay along the wall...for on the other side is water. Our kids have fun, go out, drink, come home...but we don’t have to worry because they will not be driving! As long as they walk along the wall, they’ll come home safely...we just stay up to hear the door opening!” She continued.

Everything comes from and goes to the mainland. So work starts early morning. People keep their garbage out in carefully labelled plastic bags, separate for recyclable, metallic and organic waste. It is collected from each house, taken to the dock on foot, loaded on to boats and taken to the mainland for disposal. Laundry of hotels, food, fruits and vegetables all come from the mainland. That is why Venice is slightly more expensive than other cities in Italy.

You must walk around Venice, away from the main St. Mark’s Square and tourist places to get the actual feel of the city. The houses are old, the alleys are narrow. The city is sinking slowly, constantly. So they keep paving  it regularly and that is why some doors may seem small or some ceilings may appear low...because the ground is being raised from time to time. The water in the canal rises and ebbs with the tide. The city is flooded regularly and the salt water has eroded many doors. As you make your way through the cobbled lanes along the canals, you’ll find boats parked in front of houses, balconies with bright flower pots smiling at you, moss covered stone walls interspersed with sunlight streaming down to comfort you. ‘Life will find a way’...patches of green grass can be seen, growing out from the moist soil underneath the paving, at places where feet seldom tread. Houses are connected across the streets by Sotoportego or a roof above the road. Their kindergarten used to be a palace before! You might end up at Marco Polo’s family square, named after his book on his various travel expeditions across the globe, Milion. All this is waiting for you only if you choose to venture out. Of course you will end up getting lost the first few days. But that itself is an adventure, part of the memories that you will take back. After all, not all those who wander are lost.

Venetian language is different from the Italian language spoken across the country. So if you plan to stay for some time here, best to buy an English to Italian and Italian to Venetian dictionary!

Venice is best described as a fairytale city. It is as if you are transported to a different planet all together. Most of the hotels here have carpeted floors, damask upholstered walls and gilded headrests and dressers, so typical of Venice, which seem to be coming from a princess’ palace! You can laze around in St. Mark’s Square, admire the myriad of Venetian masks in the shops, buy a variety of things in the markets around Rialto bridge, from Murano glassware to colourful ceramic plates to paper mache or leather masks. You can enjoy the afternoon sun sitting in an outdoor cafe along the Grand Canal and listening to the violins being played in many restaurants! Or you can just drift away into the sunset on a gondola!

Contrary to popular belief, Venice attracts not only the newlyweds and much-in-love young couples but also families on vacation, boys and girls travelling alone with backpacks and maps, going where the road takes them and several old people whose spirit to live and enjoy changes your perspective of life. Why, there was a group of six elderly women on the walking tour that our Mother and Daughter had taken. One of them had a fractured wrist still in plaster, one had had her knee replacement surgery done and yet they were so enthusiastic while visiting the Doge’s palace and St. Mark’s Basilica that they even climbed up the winding steps to the top of the basilica and the Scala d’Oro (Golden Staircase) in the Doge’s Palace.

To satisfy the foodie grumbling in you after a long walk there are lots of food joints. Venice is famous for its seafood delicacies, golden oval shaped cookies called Baicoli and S-shaped shortbreads, Bussolai. Our duo recommended the restaurant Rossopomodoro. The charcoal baked pizza here is the best that they had ever tasted!

The must sees in Venice-

Gondola Ride- it is an experience by itself. A gondola is a boat made from eight types of wood and it is made in such a way that it naturally tilts to the right to balance the gondolier who stands on the left side of the stern and rows with one oar on the right. Be serenaded by a swashbuckling gondolier in his black striped t-shirt as he takes you along the various small canals, under the bridges whose walls, capturing the light reflected from the waters, seem to be rippling with the gentle waves and then into the famous Grand Canal of Venice as you watch the cathedrals and palaces drift by. It is honestly huge to be called a canal! Watching the row of ferro di prua (iron on the prow) on the gondolas parked on one side bobbing up and down with the waves is a beautiful sight indeed!

St. Mark’s Cathedral and Square- Here lies the bones of St. Mark that were smuggled from Alexandria hidden in a casket carrying pork from right under the nose of the Turks who did not inspect it and turned away from the smell! The walls are covered with mosaics made of gold. The gold leaf is pressed between two slides of glass and has survived all these years. They say that the very air you breathe in this cathedral has gold dust and you come out several times richer! While at the entrance on the east, the ceiling has mosaics depicting the creation of the world, the sun sets on the other side depicting the Last Judgement. Do climb up to the top of the Basilica, you get an outstanding view of the nave and the mosaic on the floor. The original four lifelike horses of St. Mark are housed here, restored in their full glory. Their robust, muscular frame is in contrast to their eyes which are gentle and at the same time sad as if trying to tell their story, of being shipped from Constantinople, exhibited on top of the Basilica (today, there stand the replicas of the horses outside), being stolen by Napoleon to prance out from atop the Arc de Triumph and then being brought back to Venice...not to mention having their heads cut off to fit them into crates while being shipped (the consensus varies on which trip this happened!)

Out on the terrace you get a magnificent view of the Square, the Grand Canal and the clock tower whose mechanised bronze statues still ring the bell every hour! The symbol of Venice, the winged lion is perched on top of the three columns in front of the Basilica and also towards the Canal along with St. Theodore and the dragon he slew.

St. Mark’s Square probably hosts the maximum number of tourists in the world annually. You can find tourists clicking pictures of the basilica or selfies, with sticks being sold almost at every tourist spot, or children feeding the pigeons, people strolling around or a couple just sitting down cross-legged, facing each other with a gelato each!

The Doge’s Palace- It is the best example of the wealth and splendour of Venice. It is adorned with paintings, many of them depicting Venice as a woman to whom an old man (the Doge) is kneeling. Another room has painting of each Doge. One square on the wall is painted black to erase the memory of a doge who was beheaded because he stopped serving Venice and took undue advantage of the powers vested in him. An interesting thing about the city-state of Venice is that it has always been a republic except when it was conquered by Napoleon, till it became part of Unified Italy. The Venetians were mainly traders who collected the wealth for the State. The Doge was elected to oversee the administration. A doge was usually a very old person so that his tenure did not last for very long and there was no concept of the title running in a family for successive generations. Grievances were addressed, trials held, justice given in the doge’s palace. There were complaint boxes (shaped like lions’ mouths) where one could give a complaint in writing but it would not be taken up for  consideration if it was unsigned or anonymous. The Bridge of Sighs, so named because it echoes with the sighs of the prisoners, connects the Palace with the Prisons. The famous Casanova was once held captive in these prisons.

The Islands of Murano, Burano and Torcello- A day trip to these three islands should definitely be a part of your itinerary. The journey on a catamaran to these islands across the azure waters of Adriatic, the salty splashes seem to infuse you with new life, almost like being baptised! Murano is an island where all the glass furnaces were shifted to avoid the danger of fire in the main city. You can see the entire process in any glass blowing factory that you visit. Their creations can form a museum!!! Everything that your mind can ever imagine has been created with glass here. There are the fishes you saw when you went deep sea diving, the birds you had seen in Singapore zoo, chandeliers fit for palaces and vases to challenge the beauty of fresh flowers!

Burano is a small fishing village with colourful houses that reminds you of Noddy’s Toy Land. It is famous for its lacework. The handcrafted products are sure to steal your heart and your pockets!

Torcello is the island where Ernest Hemmingway spent many days, writing his book ‘Across the River and into the Woods’. This beauty of this quaint island is untouched by human hands. Your every footstep seems to disturb the peace here. Do visit the 9th century Byzantine Church on this island.

Well folks, we come to the end of our series. Hope you enjoyed yourselves! I think I have given you more than a 100 reasons to visit Italy. So, what are you waiting for? Book your tickets, pack your bags and head off per Italia!
"Travelling- it leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller"- Ibn Battuta

Ciao!!!

MS