Home Un-shanti Home

Before we arrived in Pittsburgh, buying a house seemed the only good thing Pittsburgh had to offer. For the price of living in a car’s exhaust pipe in Chicago, we could get Buckingham Palace in Pittsburgh (well, at least in Boondocks Pennsylvania, which is just about 4 hours from Pittsburgh). So we narrowed in on this mansion I was talking about earlier. Chutes from bathrooms to laundry room, intercoms, deck with a slide to the swimming pool, completed basement with a bar and a mini stage to perform puppet shows. It was something I had not even dared to dream about (My dreams don’t extend as far as puppet stages). A kitchen that would make me guilty for not being Rachel Ray. It was 10 minutes from work and close to the airport and mall. It seemed a little quiet and secluded. Isn’t that a good thing for future buyers? So we were about to sign the closing papers, when I got a frantic call from my parents in India.

‘Nahiiiiin!!! Don’t!!!’

Dropped the pen to the floor where it bounced across the hall in resounding horror many times till you get the point that nothing good is about to happen.

‘Why mom? You don’t even have to go out of the house to take your long walks. In fact, we could rent the basement for the International Puppets Conference.’

'Check out Google Earth! This place is in the middle of nowhere.’

Cursing myself for teaching mom how to use Google Earth and knowing very well that this place (like every place in Pittsburgh) was exactly in the heart of some obscure forest, I looked at Google Earth.

Holy cow! The woods that we saw from the deck didn’t end in someone else’s backyard in a few hundred yards as we had hoped. This forest stretched all the way to Alaska and beyond. If a Ted Bundy lived in my back yard, I wouldn’t even know. If he brought his family to our forth room, I surely wouldn’t have a clue till I saw their undies in my laundry. Shudder! Did I mention the hidden attic?!

I do like backcountry and forests, but then too much of a good thing is not good, right? Also the dense perspective from where I was coming from needs to be considered. A aerial comparison of the Chicago and Pittsburgh.

In fact, Google Earth saved us the frightening prospect of buying that house and getting stuck with a mortgage. So instead, we now rent in an equally wooded area with no one in sight for million miles. We don’t have four rooms or a laundry chute or a puppet room. We have an escape route. We continue to pay more in rent for that peace of mind.

Bollywood, Need a Stunt Woman?

The parking lot from where I flew off of.

downhill...to park somewhere down there at the edge of a creek.

....not entirely hidden.

crowds gather at the spectacle...quite dumbfounded.

Many hours later, my car emerged with a few dents. Nissan Altima - a great car for off roading!

Radom guy who witnessed the whole scene of my car charging down the hill was so happy to see me alive that he hugged me with tears of happiness.

Cop: Is that your husband?

I am sticking with the mechnical failure story. The brakes just failed! The things I had to hear after everyone realised I was safe, completly unhurt, wasn't suicidal, drunk or plain insane (last point will be contested in the court)-

Cop: Ma'am, are you sure it was not a human error? *gives me a look that is reserved for blondes*

Cop: You are an aviation engineer, you must know it takes wings to fly.

Cop: No wonder husband travels. He must feel safe that way.

Little girl of five: Wow! That must have been scraier than Atlantis!!(roller coaster ride in Universal)

Me: No sweetheart, it wasn't. *trying to hide the wild heart beats*

Little girl: Can I get a ride?

Me: How much did Atlantis charge? (Parents pull the kid away after telling me Jesus lives)

Good news- I found my lost set of keys that came flying on my face while I was trying every possible way to come to a stop on the steep slope. Good thing I didn't stop on the slope. Would have overturned for sure and my brains would have come flying out. Some lost and found moment that would have been!

All said and done, thankful to be alive! The only scratch I got was from a bush that I walked on while climbing up.

All women drivers, I hope I didn't malign your name further.

How I lost my first friend in Pittsburgh

A year ago, desperately finding a silver lining to this dark cloud, I figured buying a house would be the best thing to bind me to Pittsburgh and keep me occupied. I couldn’t stop dreaming about mowing lawns, wiping hard wood floors, drawing basement plans, buying new door knobs to replace the green ones, buying chandeliers to compliment those door knobs, buying new furniture to match the chandelier, eating home made rasam rice everyday to be able to pay mortgage, selling the house to be able to buy a winter jacket when the cold gets unbearable trying to save on heat bills. Sigh! My dream house!

We found a huge mansion that could fit all the homeless of Chicago in the second floor, all the rodents of Karni Mata Temple in the basement and hubby in the laundry room. We had to believe it was the perfect location when we saw a desi family peering intently at us from their dark garage, door half drawn. I ran up to them, squeezed myself inside their garage and bombarded them with a few questions of the neighborhood and specifically the lady’s culinary skills. Husband did a little talking, wife just nodded while the kid wailed. Overall I was thrilled to have neighbors who could lend curry leaves at the crucial time during preparation of aforementioned rasam. Unfortunately they shut their garage door when we were just about to invite ourselves to their house to check if they had a similar granite counter top.

We went back to Chicago and were debating about the new house when I realized that I had another grave question to ask someone who lived in that area. It could make or break the deal. I went into zillow.com, a website that lets serial killers and other antisocial elements find out how much you paid for your house, your full name and general details like your mole locations. All you have to do is type in the address and viola! your whole neighborhood’s horoscope will be on your lap to lap it off. That’s how I found out that Mr. Rao paid 5K less than what we were being quoted for a similar house. ‘They probably don’t have the granite counter top,’ I argued with hubby. Unwanted information was also gathered- He moved in with Pramila Rao in 2005 from Guntur and their kid Gugulu Rao has 5 teeth. I typed his name in google.com (a site where jobless people and nerds spend quality time increasing Google’s stock prices) and got his email id through some other association site (Andravaadus of Pittsburgh who love Chiranjeevi). Overall, I had him nailed.

I emailed him the next day, brushing his memory on my divine intervention into their garage the other day. He surely hadn’t forgotten and confessed I had startled him again as he didn’t remember divulging his name, let alone his email id. I didn’t bother with the details, but asked him the question that was plucking my mind,

’Is there a nice eyebrow place nearby?’

Smoke while Blogging. Check.

I am overwhelmed. I have so many things happening in my life that ‘pausing to smell the flowers’ is there in my list of things-to-do.

I make to-do lists during the better part of the day and agonize over efficiently prioritizing my work. Mostly I try to multi-task to be able to perform many such activities in minimal time and achieve pride and contentment.

Shit before brushing or Brush before kissing? Maybe shit-brush-kiss.

Since I simply can’t decide, I just exist in a plane of indecisive dilemma doing practically nothing till it’s almost time to eat. Glad to note I do have some priorities straight.

Great minds think alike. Fools seldom differ.

No news is good news. Hey people, I am back!

Opposites attract. Why should you have to choose your freaking life partner based on behavior patterns of magnets?

Distance makes the heart grow fonder. Some conniving Management Consulting Recruiting Staff coined that term so certain dumb wives would fall for that ploy. I don’t.

Speech is silver, silence is golden. Who ever heard of reticent leaders? The fact that we would like some to be quiet is not the point.

Slow and steady wins the race. Apart from the stupid rabbit and the delusional tortoise, I haven’t heard another application of this theory. Just yesterday this lady ran ahead of me and picked up the last sweater off the rack! It was a turtle neck to boot! :(

Early bird gets the worm. This has mom written all over it. What about that worm? Wasn’t he early too?

A penny saved is a penny gained. You are definitely not investing wisely dude!

A bird in hand is worth two in the bush. Depends on whose hand and whose bush. Hey birdie, you want company?

An apple a day keeps the doctor away. Doesn’t work on PhDs. I tried.

Good things come in small packages. Haha! Good one.

Rats desert a sinking ship. Strange sinking feeling about this one. I think I will follow them rats.

The best things in life are free. Better things come at a premium.

God helps them who help themselves. Heaven Inc. cost cutting measures.

Money isn’t everything. Except Food, Shelter, Clothes and maybe a few private jets.

Necessity is the mother of invention. Jeez..why haven’t I invented a space travel machine or a winter chaser yet?

No pain, no gain. This proverb was probably conceived before Television came into existence.

Practice what you preach. Not everyone has the time and patience for this. Go on, leave comments to boost blogger morale.

All good things must come to an end. Now that is sometimes true…like right now. Adios!

One Desperate Soul to Another

Pittsburgh social life is looking up for us. FINALLY!

I replied to a plea on the internet. I will keep you posted on our budding friendship.
I've copied this guy's post and my reply follows:

Looking for friends (Anywhere in Pittsburgh)

Posted on: Friday, 29 June, 2007 12:28

Hi,
I will probably get a lot of flak for this post but this is really a final ditch effort to find some decent friends in the Pittsburgh region. Over the last few years, my wife and I have had a tough time finding friends who are sophisticated yet warm. We either find people who're too snooty or pretentious or those who are gauche and inflexible to living a life commensurate with the ways of the US.

We're looking for friends who:

1. Are active, fun and sophisticated.

2. Are not parochial.

3. Are perfectly bi-lingual in English and Hindi.

4. Are interested in travelling and learning new activiites.

5. Are between 25-35.

If you know what I mean and are nodding empathetically, you're the kind of person we want to meet. If you're confused or annoyed because you think that friends are not meant to be mail-ordered, I completely understand. Please accept my apologies and disregard this post. My aim was not to offend anyone. It was just an easy way to find friends that share the same tastes.

_______________________________________________
Look No Further

Dear friendless in Pittsburgh,

My husband and I have moved to Pittsburgh from Chicago and we are on the brink of moving back if we don't find friends in this area soon. I just dropped my packed bags when I saw this post of yours. We nodded so much that we are on tranquilizers now. We are the right people for you and you wife to hang out with. And here’s why-

We have credentials and would qualify for all the points-

1. We are very active. Hubby channel surfs while lying on the couch and drinking beer (actively multitasking) while I am actively thinking on how to throw the TV while he blinks.
Regarding fun, we laugh at appropriate times when one says something that is perceived funny. Like your post.
I am not sure if owning a pair of shoes qualifies for sophistication, but I assure you we wear shoes. Hubby has stopped spitting on the roads ever since Bihar stopped exporting paan. (Of course, this was to also to be flexible to living a life commensurate with the ways of the US)

2. You can be rest assured we are not parochial since we are not entirely sure what it means.

3. Except 'parochial', I think we know all the words in English, even 'bi-lingual'. Sadly, my hubby needs subtitles to watch Hindi movies. Damn it! I knew this trait in him would pose a threat to our social life one day!

4. We love traveling just to eat pretzels offered in airlines. We are mostly constipated from this indulgence. We don't mind learning new activities as long as they are geared towards somehow getting ourselves featured in the Limca Book of World Records. We are in the process of making dinnerware from earwax.

5. For the first time I feel good about my age. Thank Heavens I am not 23 or even 24!

Please consider our application and let us know at the soonest if we made the cut. We are in dire need of friends and I am not kidding this time.

P.S. - You both are invited to dinner anytime. (Hope this brings out our warm personality)

Sincerely,
Hubby and I

Going Clubbing

I tried to escape from the relentless tentacles that entwine the corporate world. The only thing I managed to succumb to is going on company retreats. I avoid the Christmas party and Happy-hours (got mislead by the name a few times hoping to find something happy). I don’t drink beer and I don’t eat chicken wings. I don’t talk football or baseball. I am the office loser and I would rather give them space to make fun of me while I am not there. Instead of attending stuffy conferences, I believe in getting run over by an aircraft. Basically my networking skills are at an all time low and this is affecting my progress. The corporate ladder at this point might as well be made out of Jello.

To top it all, I turned down a few golf outings with the client and a recent one with the CEO. Someone took me aside and hit me with a three-hole punch. ‘Better take Golfing lessons, you nitwit.’

‘That four letter word gives me the heebie-jeebies and hysteria of the worst kind. As you can see, I have a healthy prejudice against golf. I can't imagine myself rolling on atrificial looking patches of green wasting half a day with a bunch of potbellied old men talking about market shares and (shudder) golf! NO WAY! If the clients want to spend time with me, they better take to climbing or kickboxing. That way talking will be at minimum while they concentrate on their immediate safety.’

Colleague looks very happy at prospect of me improving his chances of survival. He enrolls in golf classes and also takes a course in the ‘Art of appreciating beer and steak.’ He even hired a personal trainer to increase his waist line, calls his dog Caddie and uses his golf clubs as pointers in presentations.

This is getting to be too stressful for me. I can’t let XYZ colleague take my promotion. When it comes to abject jealousy, I’ve got my head in the right place. Reluctantly I asked someone where I can find the best golf outfit and shoes. If that works out, I’ll buy the state-of-art set of clubs. Next I might watch a few Hollywood movies like Tin Cup. Hope I'm not forgetting anything. Yes ofcourse, I will need to include Tiger Woods in this agenda somehow.

This whole golf thing better NOT compromise my identity of a golf-hater.

Engineers r us

In one of my benevolent moods, I decided to do something for E-week (Engineers Week) to spread awareness of Engineering among the unsuspecting school children in my area. This also serves as a good community outreach effort to bring visibility to our company and a chance do something to impress the office manager. My work wasn't really doing it.

Mikey, the co-worker, offered to help out with this initiative... and help he did. He got in touch with his buddy who happens to be a Math teacher at a High school in the Pittsburgh area and before I could even say ‘holditbuddyweneedtograsptheseriousnessofthis', he got us committed to give 7 presentations one single day! Sigh, another trauma teenagers have to face these days- Two geeks talking about how building roads could lead to salvation. Oh well, why not! It’s a good chance to get out of the office and interact with a bunch of kids and tell them how cool Engineering really is with a straight face.

Engineering in the United States is not as popular a career option as in India or even Bihar. Kids here want to make a career out of American Idol or selling hot dogs in the Soldier Field. Not a bad idea, if you ask me at 2 pm every working day. If you are a fireman or a nurse, the kids go,’ Awesome, that’s totally kewl!’ Engineers rank highly at number 23 only after Farmers and Priests in the “Professions of Very Great Prestige” poll of 2006. I should have taken Circumcision 101 and become a priest instead. The possiblities! (wait, I need to soak it in). Ok yeah, many engineering companies are concerned about the dearth of engineering enrollment in the recent years and the fact that there might be no one to fill my size 10 shoes. Anyway, all this will have to change. Can't let them get away with that smirk!

I laid out the presentation and Mikey deleted a few slides as his contribution! Next we discussed at length on what we ought to be wearing to make a false impression about Engineers. Football jersey and jeans to look cool or Armani suit and Prada Sunglasses to look well paid. Mikey decided to wear thick glasses and a tie. I took my drafter and a drawing board hoping to complement him.

We start our spiel, ‘How many of you want to be Engineers?’

In a Math class of 20, one hand would rise and the guy would feel almost guilty and quickly wave at the guy next to him. I embarked into the various ways we Engineers make life for the rest of the species worth living. They were quiet kids for the most part especially when they slept soundly without snoring. From managing to keep my fake American accent going and remembering what I had to speak, it suddenly seemed like a daunting task. I had to pick the most attentive student and focus all my energy on him to keep my morale high. So the poor kid had to keep nodding and smiling and raising his eyebrows like he was understanding what I meant by perceived social needs and commercial applications. I had given presentations before, but never to school kids, who were enjoying passing notes (probably on my hair style or the lack thereof). Nostalgia of my school days took over and I only felt immense pity for my teachers. Since it was 7 presentations back to back (with a lunch break), every word uttered after Presentation 4 better not be used against me.

Presentation 1: Phew, I remembered to whip out a joke on my last name. At least the Math teacher laughed.

Presentation 2: Did I crack the cheesy butterfly joke in this presentation or the previous one as it seemed quite fresh in my memory of actually saying it and not hearing anyone except Mikey snort. Skip.

Presentation 3: Darn, I finished 10 minutes earlier than the previous time. I must have missed out all the jokes. Shall I tell them all now in one go?

Presentation 4: Holy Macro! What is she wearing?! Oh shucks, it’s a He! I am too tired of repeating stuff. I can’t do this anymore. Mikey, please take over my slides too. I'll teach you how to be hilarious. Trip and fall.

Presentation 5: That joke just sucks. It’s too late. My sense of humor level has already been established and if one of their dad’s owns a Comedy Club in downtown Pittsburgh, I’ve lost my chances of a stand-up debut.

Presentation 6: One more to go. One more to go. I will survive. Teaching is not a career option for me. How monotonous. Teachers get paid only so much? What a pity!

Presentation 7: Oh wow! My bald-eagle joke was a hit. Why did I have to think about it in the last presentation? Oh wow! They laughed at the way I called Mikey a nerd. Should have used that one earlier too. Darn! It’s over just when I was making an impact on young impressionable minds.

Feedback was provided in the form of a few lines of what the students thought about the presentation. Even negative comments were encouraged. Almost every response in the feedback forms were very positive and seemed like our presentation did exactly what we had hoped it would. Like so- ‘After listening to the presentation, I have become more interested in getting a future in Engineering. I had no idea how interesting and rewarding this field could be. The stability and pay benefits are also very appealing.’

Or politely decline like so- It’s not really something I’m interested in, but if it was, I would totally be an Engineer.’

We felt on top of the world. It was like a feeling that every mother gets when her kid is found watching TV instead of doping. But still we were pissed that we didn't get any critisism. Do we look super sensitive or frail?

On our drive back, I was rummaging through the two hundred or odd feedback forms; I came across one that could be taken as constructive criticism. I read it aloud to Mikey- Engineering provides many opportunities and advancement in a wide range of fields for different people. Their presentation was great, but it seemed like they would cut each other off when talking.

Mikey- Did he really say that?

Me- Yes apparently we both like to talk a lot.

Mikey- Come on! It was meant to be like that!!! We wanted it to be informal… like a conversation between two people.

Me- True. Or maybe this kid was in the fourth period when I wasn’t facing you and didn’t know when you were talking. Remember the weird set up.

Mikey- Whatever, but we didn’t cut each other off! That’s ridiculous! I would...

Me (cutting him off)- Here’s this kid’s handwriting. Maybe you could get your buddy to find out who he is. It’s not like they were paying us to do this that we need to get some juvenile rudely lashing out on us like that. Secondly, if we were to...

Mikey (cutting me off)- Ingrates! No appreciation for bailing them out of Math class! Dipshits!

...and so we agonized about that single comment till destination.

Theta's curse

Theta is a cleanliness freak. He is the reigning champion in fact; the whole world of clean freaks idolize him and Cleaners Digest ran a 10 page article on his sanitized undies. It is rumored that Theta will achieve the coveted Godliness stature in just another year; the only man to even venture into this program through the cleanliness track. He frets and fumes at the sight of a little thumb print on his sparkling wooden floor and will spend 30 agonizing minutes wiping the print off with some sort of liquid that will banish fingerprints, but will not alter the shade of the wood. We all watch in awe when Theta wipes off a dust particle from his balcony railing the minute it disembarks. The fact that he also manages a full time job elsewhere perplexes many. Dust Particles Mafia, in their grimy underworld, have allocated an award of 6 million USD if any of their kin set foot (or whatever they use to move around) in Theta’s house. If they can stay long enough to take pictures of his living room, they would be decorated in the Hall of Stain.

Theta starts losing hair (which he promptly picks up and discards) whenever he knows guests are to arrive in his immaculate abode, especially his good friend Alpha. Alpha is careless and absentminded, has no regard for spotless washbasins and leaves colorless fingerprints on the wall below his switch boards. She washes her hands and doesn’t even wipe the basin clean afterwards. She sits on his sofa and doesn’t spray Febreeze at 5 minute intervals. One day she walks in, offers to make Aloo Gobi and while carelessly mixing the vegetables laden with turmeric and masala, she flings a whole dollop of sabzi from the tawa to the carpet in the dining area missing the linoleum floor of the kitchen completely. Mortified Theta managed to keep his calm under circumstances. He was wheeled back from the hospital within a week of surviving a cardiac arrest. Then he promptly ran over to Walmart, bought the best carpet stain remover that claimed it could remove all conceivable stains from beetle nut spit to Dinosaur blood. But there was no mention of turmeric stain. Theta found the out the hard way that Stain removers don’t lie. He then spent a fortune on a kasmiri rug with stain protection to cover up the yellow mark. He has, since then, banned Alpha from cooking in his house, much to the joy of everyone concerned.

The incident was long forgotten and recently Alpha arrived in Chicago to stay over at Theta’s. Alpha was home alone that morning and deciding to show some appreciation for their lasting friendship, she embarked on a cooking spree. Palak Paneer sounded like a great plan. She boiled the spinach, taking utmost care not to spill anything anywhere. She meticulously cleaned up every box of condiments touched so that there is no evidence of her ever cooking there. Nothing could go wrong. She was going to break the myth of her being a cooking disaster when she cooked at Theta’s place. She brought out the mixie to grind the palak. She turned it on…

She didn’t know how it happened, but 2 seconds and a horrifying noise later, there was bits of palak everywhere! Not just in the mixie, but on Alpha’s face, on the floor, on the counter top, on the sofa, on the artificial flower arrangement and on his TV. Old memories came flooding. She also remembered breaking an egg on his cell phone by mistake. How come these things happen only in his house, she worried. Alpha felt she should have tied herself to the corner of the house and stayed there for the whole day licking a bone. Luckily now that he had moved homes, there was no carpet involved. It’s all wooden floor. Easy to clean. So Alpha spent the better part of the afternoon using up all his kitchen towels and cleaning liquids. She felt satisfied at the sparkling result while every muscle in her body ached. She would get allergic reactions at the sight of palak henceforth.

Evening arrived. Small references to depleted paper towels were made and dismissed quickly much to Alpha’s relief. Palak paneer, made out of remains that was lifted off the floor and extracted from Alpha’s nostrils, was immensely enjoyed by Mr. and Mrs. Theta. They licked it all off and asked for more. Alpha sat smug, exonerated from her secret crime.

Suddenly, out of the blue, Theta gasped loudly looking skywards, 'What the F*** are those things on the ceiling? Oh Man! Jeez, I never saw anything like that before! Is my roof getting fungus?!!!’

Alpha looked up and saw it too. Huge chunks of dried-up spinach were suspended like stalactites. Dammit! If only she knew where to look, there would have been sufficient quantity of Palak Paneer.

Now the world talks of their friendship in past tense.

Fishy-terians!

One of my non-vegetarian friends got all riled up against other non-vegetarians who claim they ONLY eat chicken and fish. Why the holier-than thou image? He insisted that the guy is not doing a big favor to animal kind if he stays away from eating pigs or cows. Meat is meat. Why not just eat the rest and do yourself a favor by realizing how delicious pork is. Why does a butchered cow make you all sentimental about cruelty to animals and a chicken hung upside down is acceptable? Religious issues and allergies are an exception of course.

I wholly agree. You eat meat; you might as well eat all and not differentiate.

I asked my friend to let me know when he was planning on cooking his pet dog. Let’s stuff Snoopy with turkey this Thanksgiving and bake him at 400 degrees. Canary sauce with that? He recoiled and shuddered. He balked at the thought of Koreans eating roaches and lizards.

Now I am completely confused. So you’ll eat any animal that is mediocre looking…not as cute as a dog and not as ugly as a cockroach. Plain Jane and you’ll devour it! Trustworthy and intelligent, you’ll pass. Creepy crawly and you’ll recoil. Sure there is the matter of taste, but if you don’t even want to try it, aren’t you being a hypocrite? Where is equal opportunity? When will the minorities make their way into your stomach? When will you tell the doctor who detects worms in your stomach that you ate them happily with Ragu’s pasta sauce?

Sometimes it’s easy being a vegetarian. I can hold my head high, thump my chest and say I eat all my vegetables however ugly or cute.

Daze of my life

Spending dreadful winter days in a small town with nothing much going on can do weird things to my phyche. I have been going through a lot of self analysis and I am convinced that I was born for something huge. No not Pi, something bigger and better. I was referring to life in general. So I concluded that I should start this process of attaining bigdom by first taking control over myself. I definitely need to stop getting distracted. No more dreaming. I had to live in the present. While driving to work, I immersed myself completely in these thoughts of self improvement when I started driving in the opposite direction and realized after ½ hour that I was going to the mall instead. As you can see my plan was being thwarted even before it started taking shape. I managed to somehow get to work, walk into my office only to realize that it would be impossible to work given the circumstances. I had forgotten my laptop at home. I drove all the way back home and realized that a few lights were turned on in various rooms. Felt good about switching them off and consoling myself that the laptop issue did serve to address some big ecological and economical problems. Potentially saved 5 cents in electric bills and inturn the earth by a whole nano percent. I immediately got caught up with thoughts of more greening initiatives. I started backing my car from the apartment parking lot only to suddenly realize I forgot something. My laptop! Trying hard not to be self critical (you have to be encouraging during new ventures like this), I proceeded to look for my house keys to conclude they were missing. By some strange workings of my mind, I did remember locking the door. Found them lying at the door step as an invite to anyone who passes by to steal my chaddis. Thanking my stars that forgetting the laptop again had its own merits, I made my way to work with laptop securely placed under my armpit. Once I was safely ensconsed in my chair, it didn’t take me long to find out it was Saturday and that I had actually planned on going to the mall. I guess I was better off inside the womb.

Court Case and Pizza Base

The court date was set and my only hope was that Ms. Purple doesn’t show up as I had quite an excellent alibi. I had pictures of her bumper in close-up. I deleted forensic evidence of my car’s past. I took Google Earth print outs of the intersection and charted out a 10 minute monologue on the unsafe geometry of the intersection (my Transportation Engineer background finally comes of some use). I prepared a report on capacity constraints and operational deficiencies and created a proposal on improving the intersection and the cost report read 1 million dollars. Weather report of that particular day suggested ice-rain that made roads potentially unsafe. A phone conversation between me and Pi where Pi asked me to come home or he would finish up the kheer in the fridge was deleted.

Pi decided to come with me to the court for moral support and took a day off from work. By adopting my life, I feel it is his way of adding some drama in his. While I was busy preparing the case, he was busy checking out the location of the Garden-of-Eating pizza place. ‘Guess what? It’s on the way to the court. We could get it on our way back!’

‘Get what?’ I asked preoccupied.

‘That only.’

‘Oh, ok.’

On the way, he spotted the pizza joint and jumped up and down with glee. I nodded still wondering if the woman were to show up, I might have to run her over.

No purple cars in the parking lot. So there we were, the Judge, the officer, Pi and I swearing to speak the truth and nothing but the truth.

The officer presented his case. I was surprised that he dragged the part where she followed me to my apartment.

The judge was perplexed. Alpha rear ended her. So how was Ms.Purple following her?

I was squirming now. Jeesus officer, stick to the case man!

Anyway, when my turn came, I performed to the best of my potential and judge was amused with my thorough research and material but still wanted to know why she followed me to my apartment. I explained. He was even more amused.

He asked the cop if she seemed that sort of person when she stormed in with her purple jacket and purple hair band and one look at her the judge passed his verdict.

Not guilty.

Ahh, joy! Raptures! Jingilala Jum Jingilala Jum! Hoohaa hoohaa!

A slight smirk and snigger at Ms Purple and we got up to leave. Pi pulled up to the pizza place and ordered the pizza. Take out. He asked me which topping I would like and I said onions.

‘Why the heck she did show up to the court? Hope she didn’t have to travel far and wide. But thank God she came late. Whatever, she deserved it. The look on her face was priceless. Haha! You think the judge took a liking to me? Do you think if I called him ‘your honor’, he would have been happier? You think they might take up my proposal and rebuild that intersection. My office just needs a project like that.’

The pizza was brought into the car and I kept rambling about this all the way home. The pizza was placed on the dining table and the almost drooling Pi dug into the box and was about to sink his grinning teeth into the cheese laden slice.

‘ARRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!’ I screeched.

Dropping the piece, he was shocked. ‘What happened sweetie?’

‘What is this pizza doing in the house?!’

‘We just brought it.’

‘What nonsense?! Why did you get it? Look at that cheese. It’ll send the clot waiting near your heart straight to the brain. Aiyooo! It’s so huge; it covers the whole dining table. Keep off from it.’

‘I am eating it. To hell with you!’ he was obviously shaken.

‘Dammit! Eat and Die! I don’t care. I am having dal rice.’ So to prove a point, I did have dal rice while the aroma of the pizza under my nose was too much to bear.

I was so pissed about this pizza appearing from nowhere that I cursed a little more. Pi yelled back saying I had gotten arrogant after winning the case.

‘Bah! I will show you real arrogance!’

So when he went upstairs to take a break, I loaded the rest of the pizza in the car and took off to my office and laid it in the kitchen for my office folks like a kind hearted Annadata (food providing Goddess). Let others get fatter and clog themselves. I have saved my hubby.

I got a phone call. All I heard was abuses that would have put Ms Purple and the whole of Bihar to shame. Taking away food from under Pi’s nose has the worst consequences and I was not prepared for this. There were a lot of deals that had to be made and promises that need to be kept. Basically, I am a goner!

The next day, I opened the fridge in the office kitchen to bring out my lunch of dal rice and reheat it in the microwave oven when I was confronted with a huge familiar cardboard box and demons in my head.

Guilty as charged.

PS- It was yummy.

Plead ‘Not Guilty’. Check.

Things you should know before you read this post.

I am addicted to car bumpers. The minute I see one in a vulnerable position (like parked in front of my car), I make sure I show my excitement by crashing into it. It happened once, twice, thrice before and now I am convinced that God is telling me something in Swahili.

My hubby, Pi, is addicted to any food that can potentially deposit itself in wrong places. The gleam in his eye when he sees a blueberry pie is only matched by the excitement he shows towards nacho cheese. I normally don’t seek such fast means to a heart failure, but have no control over myself when he is munching in front of me. They end up in my stomach without a fuss (the only fuss happens when I try to wrestle a chip out of Pi's hand) and show up later in my weighing scale. So it is in my extreme benefit to make sure Pi doesn’t walk around in the dessert aisle. One of the reasons why I was hiding this 'Free Pizza from Eating-Garden' coupon from him. (I won that coupon during an unlucky draw.)

Yes, these two aspects of my life are related. Read on.

On this rainy day (slippery road and all), I had an accident with the most benevolent soul this hemisphere could produce. She got out of her purple Volvo, with a purple jacket and purple hair band and started hurling the kind of language you’d only hear in remote Bihar or some shady parts of UP. Knowing very well (gauging by the color of her skin and jacket) that she wasn’t from these respectable parts of India, I came to realize that I was being spoken to in English. I said a quick ‘sorry’ and acted the part of innocent-foreigner-not-knowing-why-her-read end-jutted-out-so-much. I examined the situation from my car and my microscopic eyes concluded there was no damage to her car and her exalted self. Much ado about nothing! She stormed around her car and walked in. I assumed things were fine and that she would put her revolver away and maybe use it on migratory birds instead. But no, she was pissed that I wasn’t showing enough remorse, she jumped out of the car again and screamed, ‘Pull over Bitch!’ I felt bad for the amount of stress she was under. Maybe she got some horrid Christmas present from her boyfriend. I do not want to speculate the reason for her trauma, but I sure wished I had created a nice dent on her car. I would rather take abuses for something substantial.

So I followed her like Marry’s little lamb all the time seething in rage about someone with a purple hair band creating a dent in my perfect day. All the while, I was staring at her bumper looking for a scratch of some sort. After making me follow her for a mile, she pulled over in a parking lot near my apartment complex. I decided to spare her more agony of yelling at me and saw an opportunity to put her out of misery. I fled. Don’t ever do this unless you plan on fleeing this country too. I parked my car next to my apartment complex and ran inside only to be confronted with Pi who panicked on the prospect of giving refuge to a convict and he urged me to go find her and exchange information in the rightful way. Bah! Whatever! I hate these plesantaries.

I didn’t have to go far as Ms.Purple was right there, stomping about angrily around my car.

‘Hi’, I said amicably.

‘What is this apartment name?’, she asked not so amicably.

‘Jicamma Muniamma,’ I replied.

‘She lives in Jicamma Muniamma. I see her car parked here. She must have ran into her apartment. We’ll find her.’ she blasted to someone on a phone.

‘I am her,’ I tried to explain.

‘Oh its you!’, dumbfounded at first, she suddenly became indignant. ’Talk to the cops. I don’t want to waste time talking to you.’

I felt like hugging her for not putting me through the torture of talking to her.

It was pouring now. She sat inside her car waiting for the cops to arrive while I sat in my toasty apartment sipping tea wanting to pack and leave to India for good. It's too cold here.

For what took almost an hour, the cops came. She screamed, huffed and puffed, pointing fingers at me.

‘Which intersection was it ma’am?’ the cop asked after having to hold his breath for 10 minutes while she spewed venom.

‘Kalthappa Ave and Muthanna Rd’, she hissed.

‘That will be under Gooseyland Jurisdiction. You may have to call them.’

So after three sets of cops arrived in the scene, they couldn’t still ascertain which jurisdiction that particular intersection would come under.

Needless to say, I was enjoying inefficiency for the first time. Very sadly the right cops came to the scene and were taken by the woman’s story, especially the fact that she was standing in the rain for two and a half hours straight. They asked for my story. They called her the victim and me a criminal. The way I was being talked to, any passer-by (that included three guys in the apartment complex who moved out last week) would think I lopped off a few people and dashed away.

I told them that the so called victim used foul language so I panicked as I wasn’t used to hearing such bad words in the protected world I live in (which isn’t entirely false as I find Tom and Jerry violent). I wanted to deal with such a character in familiar surroundings (actually I didn’t want to deal with her at all. I was hoping she would give up) with my husband by my side (extra brownie points for pativrata stree angle). Who knew, she could have shot me. I didn’t have my cell phone (which was true) to alert the cops.

After much debate and rants, from a criminal offense of fleeing the accident scene, I was given a lesser charge of careless driving. I got my traffic violation ticket by mail.

I contested that.

Stay tuned for ‘Court case and Pizza base'

With Much Ado

Much to write about, much to rant
Much has happened, no time to pant
I could glorify the times I spent in a haze
Underplay my deeds that set the world ablaze
Whatever I did or whatever I set to do
Would have no meaning at this time to you
My trip to Cancun or my New Year woes
Would hold the same relevance as fungied toes
One day I would be famous as famous as can be
More famous than the Alpha you happen to see
That day you’ll read this poem and wisely infer
Using inane adjectives and some useless metaphor
That I was a tad piqued, maybe euphoric or arguably aseptic
You literary souls will conclude that my life was placidly hectic
You’ll bet that I was running a marathon or mothering five kids
That I might have got gingivitis after eating those squids
You could scrape this manuscript and even take a lick
But you’ll never be able to guess that today I’m deliriously sick

Blues Clues

The neighbor girl I meet in the gym (Gymmi) saw me after my long vacation and declared I have never looked sadder. ‘Why are you looking so depressed?’

‘Me? No yaar, I am fine.’ I insisted for the third time.

‘No, but you look so withdrawn and gloomy. Is there anything you want to talk about?’

‘Hmmm…Yeah, I am in the vortex of sadness and excruciating pain. I think it’s the weather. All the leaves departing the trees has made my happy soul depart me.’ While I was at it, I also launched into Pittsburgh-bashing convinced that we have finally arrived upon the reason why I looked so sad.

‘I hope you tell Pi what’s bothering you if you don’t want to confide in me.’

I tried to think how many times I might have met her before. I could count with the two fingers of my right hand. Both the times I didn’t recall bouncing about like a clown in front of her. I was as sober as an ailing hyena.

Anyway, it did get me thinking about this depression and I came up with a few more causes. Next day I met her.

‘Hi Gymmi!’ I tried to jump up and down and wave, all the time beaming my guts out trying to look extra happy. 'Hehehahahaw-yoodle doodle!!'

‘Are you all right? You sound a little down,’ she started off without a cue. If she was an aspiring shrink I would have sued her for shameless self promo. But she works for an IT firm. To think I was the one who’s supposed to be depressed.

‘You know what, I think I know why. Last time you saw me I was going on vacation. Now I am back. Obviously I am not a happy camper. Logic, eh?’ I congratulated myself.

‘No no, now I get it. When I met you, you were this normal person. Just as you were leaving for vacation, my friend (who reads your blog) told me you are damn funny. So I guess I was under that impression all along. Anyway, mystery solved. Wanna go for dinner?’

Now I am truly depressed.

Die Maharani

The title is the name of this Geeta Mehta book that we saw hoardings for everywhere we went, translates to 'The Maharani', much to my utter disspointment at the tameness of it. Hilter country and no goriness? Bah! We headed to Germany with Sims being very apprehensive about the hosts (since they were my friends). I guess it was because I hadn’t met them and they were bloggers. Ok, I had met Parmanu for a short time in Chicago when he bought me a banana. I had to assuage her fears about bloggers saying that I was one too and perfectly normal at that. That’s when I think she had a small breakdown. But as luck would have it, the scenery was turning to look very DDLJ-like outside the train. She felt much better. 'Wow, look at these lovely hills with pretty tudor homes.' It was quite pretty. Germany felt much more manicured and newer than ther other European countries we visited. Their roads reminded us the US roads.

We met Gini and Parmanu at Heidelberg Train Station a couple of minutes late by which time Gini had concluded that I am a rebel for not following her instructions closely. She scolded me just as we hugged. So much for the initial niceties. Brother Parmanu impressed me with his Mercedes and business suit (probably Armani) that he wore just for this occasion. I just hope the Merc loaded with an annoying GPS unit wasn’t an expensive hire. Heildelberg had a very dreamlike feel to it. A lovely castle on a hill with the full moon as a backdrop and swans on the river….I came back to reality only when the swans bit my fingers. Sister Gini just heard about her new job offer and we went, ‘Treat treat!’ What perfect timing, I say. We were treated at the Indian restaurant much to our happiness. That reminds me, I hope the biryani I packed is still in the fridge.

Reached their cozy home in Waldorf and as tired as we were, the hosts started this insane fight with us and got us exhausted. Parmanu decided to let me and Sims sleep in the bedroom while he slept in the living room. He had also cleared up some shelf space for our belongings. So very sweet. But I couldn’t let them do that unless they had intentions of letting us stay there for a month. We fought and finally they relented when I threatened them with some of my jokes. It wasn’t such a big sacrifice as the living room was perfectly fine and even had a nice pull out bed. It had fluffier pillows and soft mattress. Hmmm... maybe that’s why he wanted to sleep here. I had one scarring incident some years ago due to this kind of behavior. This was during my brother’s first night when they (brother and wife) felt bad that I was sleeping (rather happily and comfortably) on the living room floor. After a long battle, the three of us were sleeping uncomfortably on the bed. My mom still blames me for their not having kids yet.

So coming back to Parmanu’s home, it was very comfortable and the hosts made it even more so. Colours(Parmanu’s wife) was having an affair in Switzerland and hence couldn’t make it. We missed her whenever someone said she makes some really good food.

Next day morning after a spectacular spread of delicious breakfast by Gini, we were driven (in the same Mercedes to the songs of Rang de Basanti) to Sasbachwalden, another pretty little town in Black forest.

We also spent a considerable time talking about blogging and bloggers. I am sure Sims enjoyed every bit of this part. We tried to explain the whole deal and she tried to understand, poor thing. ‘You get free accommodation if you blog?’

The highlight of the day was of course the Indian play ‘Teen Sakina Manzil’ by Ramu Ramanathan whom we had a chance to meet and get impressed with. Ramu seemed quite enthusiastic himself about the small scratch he was making in Germany. Even I was quite taken by the German response and visibility this play had gathered. If you think our experience in Germany was getting to be quite India oriented, wait till you hear the rest. That night in Frankfurt we had some great Indian food at a restaurant. With Parmanu around, I am told, we were lucky that we had our fill of other cuisines before we embarked in Germany.

Next day we went to the well known Frankfurt Book Fair with India being the theme this year. Lucky me- I was just not getting enough of India in Europe. Indian authors like Shashi Tharoor, Vikram Seth, Vikram Chandra etc were invited as guests. There were Indian programs and book readings translated to German. When I walked in, a Tamil poet, Salma, was reading out excerpts and it was being translated to German. It felt quite good to see all the excitement about India and Indian authors. As much as I am fond of books, Parmanu survives on them. If it was possible, he’d be reading one while driving. Or maybe he was being polite this one time. The clincher to the day was the anna-saaru that Gini cooked that night. She will get hundred children if my blessings work. By that time I think the hosts were tired of being nice all the time. Their true colours surfaced. They made me watch the movie Padosan! The fact that I hadn’t watched the movie before got them all worked up and they assured me that it was a hilarious movie that I shouldn’t miss. Half way through the movie, I will agree that Padosan is a movie I will buy to torture my kids when they disobey me. ‘Go watch Padosan, you ingrates… If I tell daddy that you broke the flower pot, he’ll make you watch it twice again. Just you wait.’

Gini, Colours & Parmanu, I didn't do justice to the wonderful times we had just coz I did not want to advertize your place for random bloggers to take refuge. I think we might have made Sims a die hard blogger, if not a believer that all bloggers aren't as weird as me. Overall, the weekend couldn’t have been more perfect. Let me think….. really hard…nah! I think you guys made our Germany experience worth gloating about. Die End!

Paris (un)done

No more true stories for you all. No more telling you that the ant ran away with the elephant or that there is a Chinatown booming somewhere in the world and fake LV purses are selling like hot potatoes, so much that the Chinaman got so emotional and contracted a painter to make a fake Da Vinci of me. Louvre bought that painting and called it Alpha Lisa.

I had great expectations of the Louvre only to realize my zest for Art and History took a hike at the most inopportune time. I had intentions of spending two full days assimilating what the entire museum had to offer. Suddenly seeing decapitated Greek guys with only their penises intact, paintings of women strategically covering a single breast with loin cloth that Gandhi later advocated for these purposes, Napoleon’s dining table and all his gaudy furniture …. had me running to exit and getting misled and lost only to find myself in some other art gallery where I walked into this painting.

I was so taken aback that I turned around and laughed so hard as to not hurt the sentimentalities of the people who were seriously admiring this work of art and taking down notes. After 10 minutes of uncontrolled giggling I looked up at the painting I was actually facing- a very gruesome depiction of crucifying of the Christ! Jeezus!

Next thing I know I was following the signs that led to Mona Lisa…. There were at least 23 of them. All the hype and we were greeted with that mocking half mysterious smile from this lady who was enclosed in a glass chamber and protected by an armed security. If she still has a reason to smile living in the Louvre day and night, I think we all better learn a thing or two from her.
We saw the Pantheon and hanging scrotum sacs (or balls as you kids would call it) from the ceiling. Some designer’s weird sense of humor, I guess.

Next we ate crepes, got drunk on wine and ate from garbage cans and drank from ornate fountains (I have a valid excuse- water and food is expensive in Paris). I even spat on the streets of Paris. Got up with terrible headache the next day and enacted the whole Bhishma pratignya thing to swear off of booze forever (after the Europe trip and New Years eve and…some blanks to be filled later). Yes, another must do in Paris was checked.

Next couple of days in Paris went off pretty quick just when I had pulled out my English- French dictionary to facilitate doing the laundry. I couldn’t figure out the machine and a helpful handsome French guy, tried to explain the whole process in French. I cast vague helpless looks and he took charge. He put my clothes in the washer (said something in French which probably meant ‘Put your clothes in the washer like so’), and then he proceeded to use another vending machine to buy some laundry detergent while continuously talking in French (obviously telling me ‘You twit, this is how you buy detergent). Patiently he explained the working of the machine, while pressing some buttons, turning some knobs and actually doing the whole thing for me. He could have been on mute and saved himself the trouble of dealing with my love struck self trying to hold on to every little French word and saying ‘Merci’ some million times. Lord have mercy!

In the laundry room, after my French God left, an American guy smiled and said, ‘I could have helped you, but you seemed to be having a better laundry experience with him.’

‘Merci’, I told him.

La Symbiose à Paris

If you haven’t understood your Biology lessons in school, here is a chance. My second day in Paris will be able to elucidate these topics with examples.

There are various categories of symbiosis seen when two organisms interact:

Parasitism, in which the association is disadvantageous or destructive to one of the organisms and beneficial to the other (+ −)

So here I was wondering as to how I managed to convince myself to come to Eiffel Tower when I was having a great time shopping at Champs Elysees when I was interrupted by an Indian guy asking me to take a picture of him in front of the tower. Obviously I obliged. He felt obligated to take a picture of me in the same location with my camera, making me stand with a hand on my hip and my head slightly bent for studio quality photograph. I obliged to his obligation. That’s when the story went downhill... or rather, up the tower.

I started to wander around the base of the tower and wherever I turned, I met him by sheer coincidence of course. ‘Can you take a photo here in front of that statue?’
‘Now let me take yours. Give me your camera.’

‘Oh look, it’s you again. One more photo please!’… and then so it went on forever.

That explains my extreme emotions in certain photos. So I ran amok to try to flee from the Photo-Nazi when I was confronted with a superb idea. I decided to climb the stairs instead of taking the elevator as a means of escape. Seeing his bulk in person and through the lens, I was pretty sure he’d find a more sedentary prey to continue with his Eiffel Tower portfolio.

In five minutes of running up the stairs, I heard unmistakable panting and puffing. ‘Do you know I am a Sri Lankan? Huff..Pufff.. slow down. I want a picture taken here on the stairs!’

‘Wait, let me take a picture of you in my camera and send it to you by email. Isn’t it so cool that we found each other to take pictures? ’

That does it! I sprinted ahead, crouched behind a dustbin and didn’t move for 30 minutes straight. Yes, at the cost of looking suspicious to people wanting to throw trash. That’s when I lost him much to my utter delight.

BTW, when you do have time after escaping from self obsessed Sri Lankans, do look out of the tower. It’s got a great view with no openings to throw yourself out of!

Mutualism, in which the association is advantageous to both (+ +)

Back in Champs Elysees, a Chinese guy stopped me in the middle of the sidewalk and asked me if I spoke English. Very wary that it might be for some money, I replied in affirmative. Maybe I liked being asked for money. Gives me kicks that people think I do have money. Especially decently dressed individuals like himself. But he didn’t ask me for any cash. He gave me some infact. 330 Euros in hard currency. He asked me to quickly put the sum in my pocket lest someone notices. I was about to thank him and skip away into the sunset; but like all sweet deals, there was a catch to this one. I was asked to buy this particular wallet from Louis Vuitton (for which he had a sample) for him. I get no commision in this deal and I could very well be arrested if the notes were counterfiet. But in some whim, I agreed to carry out this weird request. If he had asked me to take a picture of him, I might have screamed. This way, I thought to myself, I get to go inside the swanky LV store and actually buy something. I could walk out of the store for one block with a Louis Vuitton bag in my hand. Hah! This is great!

Before you conclude I am quite an abnormal person, he did mention that he wasn’t being let into the store and I had heard rumors that stores in Paris were known for their snooty behaviour. Helping the hapless and walletless was my prerogative.

So I walked in effortlessly and stayed in the store for an hour admiring the disgusting purses locked up behind glass cases some billed at 20,000 Euros. I took my own time as I had to keep our Chinese man on his toes. Hopefully he was breaking into a sweat thinking that I actually ran away with his money from some underground passage. After going from one sales rep to another, I was finally handed the wallet in forceps to check. It was then neatly wrapped in some box and placed in a LV bag. ‘Ma’am, credit card or cash?’

I needed cash so the thought of using my credit card did occur, but I decided against it imagining it would hurt me more than the store if that money was actually fake.

As I walked out, I could see him waving to me across the street excitedly, at the same time suspiciously looking around. Anyway, I handed the wallet to him asking him to check if it was alright. He grabbed the bag, thanked me quickly, threw the packaging, pocketed the wallet and walked away real fast. A little perplexed, I was glad to take the empty bag home.

If you ever buy a fake LV from Chinatown for 10 bucks, remember Alpha and thank her for that prototype that she provided to make your purse look like an exact replica.

Chinese people were having a tough time entering the store.

Commensalism, in which one member of the association benefits while the other is not affected (+ 0)

I saw Arch De Triomph at the far end of Champs Elysees and decided to get a closer look having come this far. As I went closer, familiar music engulfed me. ‘No way! No freaking way!’

Abhishek, Lara and the croonies were here too. Second day in a row. My stars were aligned perfectly and literally. Same clothes, different venue…the song sequence continues. I was hoping to let Aby baby know about my plans for the next day so I could see him again. Sigh!

Pari Hoon Mai

It was night by the time we got off at Paris after much debate as I was convinced that the announcement in the train, ‘Pariee di Nooaahha’, didn’t sound one bit like the city I intended to go to. In spite of the French and their complete disregard for phonetics just to make their language sound cute, the Metro is very comprehensible and easy to follow even for a dumbass. The precise instructions got us on the wrong train only 4 times on the first day of arrival. The bus system, I must admit is quite confusing and we used that only as a means to see the city after which we had to take the train to get to where we wanted.

‘Mmm..what do you think? You like it here? You can live here?’ Simran would spring this precise question every time we landed in a new place. This would be before we even embarked from the station, before I could even breathe the air. And I had this uncanny way of exasperating her by saying, ‘Yes of course, Lovely, isn’t it. I could live right here on his escalator. Always wanted a moving home.’ Same answer in Amsterdam, Brussels and Brugges. She never tired in trying to find out if I hated any place.

Holding up the map to locate our hotel from the Metro station was no easy feat. Follow a Street called Rue that intersects another street called Rue. ‘Hey hey, guys, I found it. Here is Rue. Come follow me.’

Thankfully the other two had higher IQ to figure that Rue means Street and if they were to follow me, we’d be going around in circles and we would get lucky if our feet gave in eventually.

The three of us had some great Japanese dinner with hot sake that put us in a nice mood. Remind me to eat some French food while I am in Japan. We had more wine while relaxing in the room where we would be reminded (by Pierre or Pyo downstairs) from time to time to keep our decibel levels a little lower and shut the eff up. Or in his dainty words- Shhhhh!

Conclusion about Paris after Day 1- If you want a quiet place to live in Paris, this hotel is it!

Took off by myself in the morning as I felt it would be prudent to leave the lovebirds by themselves in the romantic place while I could spend some quality time exploring this city alone.
‘Are you sure you’ll be fine all by yourself?’ Sims asked out of concern.

‘If I can’t deal with myself, who else will!’

I went whichever way my fancy took me. Yes, towards the Louvre. Especially since our hotel was a block away from it, it seemed the right thing to do. Wow, the Louvre looked quite grand. Took a million pictures. It looked very different from what I had envisioned. Slightly smaller and someone had stolen the glass pyramid, I concluded after walking around it. Walked inside to realize that it was the Opera House and that the Louvre was probably somewhere else intact with the Pyramid and Mona Lisa. Must remember not to mention such honest mistakes to the others. They would never believe me if I said the Opera house was worth a visit and that it was close to a lovely mall that I was intending to go to anyway.

Somehow by midday, I reached the Louvre to learn it was closed on Tuesdays (which happens to be the very day I happened to be there). So I got to see it from the outside without the bustling tourists. This time the Louvre looked every bit like I had expected it. Historic ochre monstrosity that would have been grandiose but bland if the resplendent pyramid right in front of it didn’t add a factor of surprise. Walking into this quadrangle gave the sense of being in a place that was worthy of only the royalty, of valiant heros and regal maidens…of Abishek Bacchan and Lara Dutta. The serenity of this place was shattered by loud Bollywood music. I rubbed my ears in disbelief and looked wide eyed to see a crew dancing to some song from the new blockbuster Jhoom Barabar Jhoom. I forgot all about Louvre and the Pyramid and ran with all my might towards this new Parisian Wonder. My day was made while I clicked away pictures trying to get the attention of Abishek’s make-up man. Was about to send an SMS to Narsim and Simran when I saw that I missed an SMS from them earlier- Come to the Louvre ASAP.

So they were here before me. Darn, I get no bragging rights for this one. Ms. Dutta, your clothes are going to be a rage at the red light district in Amsterdam. They'll take anything remotely from Paris. I'm so thankful for these photos, because none of the other pictures of Europe held the same sanctity for my relatives and friends back home.

Moved on to Notre Dame and came across many more majestic buildings and churches that looked as historic and important as the Louvre, but since I had no clue as to what they were, I wowed and continued my journey. That’s the thing about Paris. There is this grotesque display of history at every turn, wilting away with dignity or majestically mocking at you for not knowing what it is. A statue here, a fountain there and then you are faced with the eternal dilemma... to photograph it or not. Graciously greying without ever losing her sophistication and youthful glitter, Paris makes you fall in love. I walked along the river Seine, supposedly the most romantic walk in the whole world. I didn't pine for Luc, though I must admit it was very dreamlike. I am in head over heels in love with myself again. It was quite secluded and since the weather was wet, the book sellers that would have normally lined up their books in little green boxes had locked up and left much to my disappointment.

I crossed the river to St Louis Island (Ille de St Louis) and bought myself a pair of earrings. It’s impossible not to wander into the little stores in Paris. The women are stunning in a very casual way. The tights and boots combo that you’d see in runways and lunatics sat on these women with ease. The women are so well dressed and if I couldn’t get myself to look like that in a million years; I can at least try by buying what they wear and end up looking like the lunatic I had mentioned before. I walked in and out of book stores looking for anything English. A few hours later, I had nothing to show about Paris other than Abishek Bacchan. No museums covered, no Eiffel Tower, not even the famous sewer tour of Paris. But oddly enough, I was enjoying every minute of my time doing just this. I spent three hours in a coffee shop teaching the woman English. I know I know, I should be the one learning Bonjour, Comment Allez Vous etc…but she is the one who gets English customers. I’m here only for four days…who cares if I learn this language or not as long as I was getting my hot chocolate. She taught me a few things in French too… but seriously, what good is that now? Maybe if she had taught me how to make that lip smacking apple pie. Whoever said Parisians are snooty. They are proud, but not rude. It’s a good thing not to know the language sometimes. You can just smile when they’re ridiculing you at this store for trying out a sweater over your T-shirt. A truly general example.

It got dark and that’s when I opened the map for the first time. I had to know how to make my way back. Jeez, I had walked quite a bit around the Latin Quarter. It’d take me a while to get back to the Hotel and the thought of how much more money I would spend along the way brought in a new set of jitters. Maybe a cab would turn out cheaper than walking. Got back in time to have dinner with my friends. They had cabaret plans for the night and I declined the offer to go and see women in feathers kicking one leg in the air. On exchanging notes, by God, they had covered a lot of ground in one day. They had seen the Louvre, Notre Dame, Eiffel tower, the Grand Arch, Champs Elysees, Arc de Triomph and now they were going to this cabaret. To think my legs were aching and I was planning on retiring for the day.

‘Where did you go?’ they asked and I answered.

Going by their reaction, I might as well have said I slept in the hotel all day.

Paris continued……

The Sprouts and Waffle Ex-pee-rience

Enroute to Brussels on Eurail, my friend was mighty disappointed that the view outside the train wasn’t as pretty as they showed in DDLJ. For the uninitiated, DDLJ is a Bollywood blockbuster starring Shahrukh, Kajol and a cow. After much deliberation, the blog name for my friend will be Simran. So when I realized Simran was actually in Europe for the DDLJ experience, (people have weird reasons to travel…some travel to buy magnets and some to sing ‘Tujhe dekha to yeh jaana sanam’) I knew for a fact that I had better recreate Amrish Puri quickly or deal with huge sighs of disappointment through out the trip.

‘What yaa, the stations don’t look like the ones in the movie,’ she sulked.

If I could get my hands on that Chopra fella, I’m demanding a freaking explanation. Why Europe? Why Eurail? Why make such movies available to all and sundry? Can't wait to get my Sound of Music revenge in Salzburg.

Anyway, Brussels was very tiny. If we had actually moved from the two blocks we kept wandering in and out of for the fear of getting lost, we might have felt the city was enormous. The Grand Place square was incredible. Since we just stumbled into it, we were struck by its beautiful cathedral and gothic buildings. Many roads just end in such open squares all through Europe. But none compared to the grandiose of this particular one. It’s lovelier by the night. Coffee shops and restaurants line this square. A local artist painting, kids playing, a concert in progress, a tourist taking the 56th picture (not me, I stopped at 52) didn’t mar the beauty of this place. Waded through the tourists to check out this little peeing kid, Manneken Pis (name doesn't leave much for imagination) and that's exactly what we saw..a bronze kid peeing away to glory. I am sure tourists avoid buying his statue as we saw loads of them in the stores. We also saw a bronze dog peeing on the road. Belgians must surely come to India and see the real thing!

Brussels is also known for its cartoonists like Herge of the Tintin fame. So there are many murals/cartoons throughout the city giving the historic city an element of fun.

And like every cool traveler, we did a very cool thing. Ate at an Indian restaurant that sent magnetic forces towards us the first day. We decided to eat in a local joint and got cheese and more cheese into our blood stream. How much chocolates and waffles can a man eat…same as a woman. By the second day, we succumbed to the smell of aaloo baingan. Those restaurant people did have some sense of humor. The samosas had brussel sprouts as filling. Try this at home by all means, but not when I am invited. Thank you very much.

Big Ben in Belgium (not as big)

We took a train to Mini Europe. Now this place had always caught my fancy in pictures. Whenever someone showed me photos of walking among tiny scaled models of the Big Ben and Eiffel tower, I was quite enthralled. I didn’t mention to Simran and her hubby (chalo, let’s call him Narsim, who was a kabab-mein-haddi during our initial travel..so much for Shahrukh Khan bouncing towards us) that I had seen these pictures when I was a kid. So they played along and accompanied my excited self to this theme park called Mini Europe. I can’t tell you how I escaped strangalization by this suddenly turned violent couple. The park was at its cheesy best. I could have strangled myself…but put a brave front to ward off any more disgusted stares. ‘Wow, look at this…miniature Grand Palace Sqaure.’ I think that was when all of us developed allergic reactions towards the Grand Palace Square and decided to stay away from it for the rest of the day.

‘Let’s buy lace.’ Simran declared out of sudden fascination for procuring items that a certain place was famous for.

‘What?! That granny stuff? No way are we buying lace.’ Narsim simmered.

‘Why not’, I asked. ’They’d look lovely as head rests on your couch so that when I come to your house with my head full of Parachute oil, it wont stain the backrest of the aforementioned sofa. Also you could use lace to cover your telephone and TV when they are not in use.’

‘If you are buying lace, then I am buying a pipe and placing it over the TV.’ Narsim protested.

‘Pipe? Like PVC pipe?’

‘No, a smoking pipe.’

‘That might actually go with our décor. Forget the lace. Let’s buy a pipe. Is it famous here?’

So while this couple sorted out their differences over pipes and lace, I bought knives. It might come handy to slit throats in case it became necessary.