Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Deutschland

Spot on

Dealing with the Germans at a professional level is always an enriching experience.
I always feel more earnest and inspired to 'work more, to 'do more' whenever i meet up with Germans. And in the last couple of years, courtesy work and the Fulbright program, this has been one of the nationalities i have interacted the most with. Stereotypes about Germans being gruffy (i coined that term) are just that: stereotypes.

As professionals, they would be one of the most thorough people one would come across, anywhere in the world. When they say it, they mean it. And when they mean it, they do it. And if it cant be done, they tell you as soon as they know it.
With Germans, one expects very few of the tricks that the usual suspects play.
And this is true irrespective of the nature of the professional relationship. I deal with Germans as a customer, and have German customers as well; whichever way one looks at it, the earnestness stands out.


East and West, the twain shall meet
It is also interesting to interact with people from the former GDR, or East Germany and to be in establishments in that part of the country. When i inquired about a comparison between the erstwhile East and West Germany, several people from the eastern part told me that infrastructure in the east has now become better than in the west. The reason is that there was very little of it in the east when the wall came down, so most of the new stuff has now happened there. I can still sense a little bit of iffiness in some people from the west, but that is so much lesser than what it was, say, a decade ago.

All this is in the context of a tremendous amount of transition the German society is undergoing today. The demographics are altering. The country have a lot many more Turks, Romanians, Poles, Bulgarians, Russians than there were even a decade ago. There is an acute concern about the Eurozone. "For how long can we carry the burden" is a question a lot of people are beginning to ask.
For now, though, Germans are carrying along (a la Boxer from Animal Farm)
  The trains and the timings
Impeccable timing, clockwork precision. The cliched phrase, 'One can set the watch by train timings', is spot on here. The public transportation system in most major cities in Germany would be the stuff of science fiction for all Indian ones.
Not too many people still use the e-ticket, for sure a lesser % than in India.That is where we would be scoring, perhaps.
Trains are also a very important player in the journey towards environmental well being, and it is often heartening to see one of world's largest automobile manufacturing countries demonstrate a high level of consciousness and effort towards the environment through the use of public transport and bicycles.

Stay Veggie, stay healthy
Germany is perhaps one the easiest countries in Europe to find vegetarian food in. And this is beyond the odd traditional pasta or dal makhani that one might get outside of India and Italy. In Germany, potatoes are an all weather favourite. An increasingly large number of people are turning veggie too. Salad bars and fruit joints are one of the fastest growing food segments. The country has a long history of 'organized' vegetarianism. As far back as 1867,  Eduard Baltzer, from Liepzig, founded the Deutsche Verein für natürliche Lebensweise (German Natural Living Society) - the first society to promote vegetarianism. Soon, every major city in Germany had vegetarian societies, and after a series of mergers and name changes, all combined to become the Vegetarier-Bund Deutschlands (Vegetarian Federation of Germany).
http://www.ivu.org/history/societies/vbd.html

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

No longer a leftist



How does one cope with a situation when one is suddenly left with one functional hand.

The evening before Diwali, an accident with a cracker, boom, and it burst with full force, hitting my left palm and tearing away the top layer of the skin. When it happened, the bomb blast seemed like a (real) bomb blast. There was smoke all around, and for a few seconds, i could not see anything. I thought i had lost my vision.  A while later, though, i started seeing stuff.

Some tissues underneath the skin on the palm got burnt as well. I screamed the loudest i ever had. Rushed to a tap. Put the hand under water. It seemed there was an exploding volcano inside. Ice cold water would be the only way i would stop screaming. And this continued for a few hours. Hand started getting swollen. osmosis, perhaps. Liberal doses of Silver nitrate.

Doctor said it would take at least ten days to be functional. The full recovery could take a month.

After the shock and the heat and the doctor came the next phase.  The burn had rendered the left hand unusable.

Welcome to the one handed world.

Eating, washing, cleaning, driving all became major issues, each of which required improvisation. Some, like driving, had to be foregone. Many other things that i had always taken for granted became a massive challenge.

Including, how would i burst crackers the next day, Diwali.

Thank God my Blackberry has distinct and elevated keys. Had i been on a pure touch phone, things would have been very different. .

In a couple of days, newer friends emerge. Teeth, elbow, knuckles . These guys start pitching in. Silver nitrate facilitates.

A few days down the line, the left hand starts coming back into action.

Now, it is almost all back, with a few scaly layers being irritants.

As Mastercard might say-

Crackers- $ 100
Doctor and meccicines- $ 60
To be a 'leftist' again - Priceless

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Going Dutch in the Netherlands


Doing business with the Dutch, especially the Dutch from Holland is quite an experience. More than anything else, for the unexpected directness these interactions bring. And for the fascinating colour they provide to the canvas of interactions.

I wondered if this was just me who was feeling this in-your-face-directness. So i googled to see what some others might be thinking. A few samples from the first few hits say-


" Dutch people are very direct. Depending on your point of view, this is rude, tactless or refreshing".

 "Dutch like to think that they are open, honest, to the point and direct. But that is just an excuse for their extreme rudeness".

"The Dutch are known for being down-to-earth and they are very direct. Some people may find this tactless, but Dutch people consider it a sign of honesty"

"The Dutch are in fact proud of all this directness and their very unique tell-it-as-they-see-it mentality. They often consider the English or American forms of politeness a sign of weakness, and reeking of insincerity and hypocrisy, two traits Dutch people absolutely despise".

As one might ponder over the merits of this Dutch trait, it needs no pondering to observe the following attributes:

1) The height: Most of the Dutch i know, both men and women, towered above my puny 5feet, 8inch frame. All my travels, all these years, this was where i felt most like a Liliputian in the land of Gullivers. And data proves it. The Dutch now are officially the tallest nation in the world.
http://www.metro.co.uk/news/35629-dutch-are-the-worlds-tallest-its-official

2) The cycles: Bicycles are everywhere. ranging from the old grandmother-black-no-brakes to modern-geared-sophisticated stuff to the e-bikes, the bikes are everywhere. This is a country which has more bicycles than people, and the rate of growth of the bike population is about four times the rate of growth of the human population. The sobriquet, "Bicycle capital of the world" fits in nicely.

3) The openness- Whether it is in conversations, or in business dealings, or in touristy stuff, the openness in every aspect of life is remarkable. It also manifests itself in iplaces like  coffeeshops (where you can snort upto a certain amount), legalization of the world's oldest profession and much more.

4) Feel of the ubiquitous phrase, 'Going Dutch'. This is a very Dutch expression of what they believe is a natural thing to do. everyone pay for your food at a restaurant, or split the expenses equally. This act, which can be considered disrespectful in many parts of the world, especially the oriental part, is par for the canal in the Netherlands.

5) The windmills- As i see them moving about, at none too great speeds, i try and wonder what is the technology that can tap this slow movement and convert to energy. and the scale ? and the investment ? No wonder they did not take off as anticipated.

And for all the hype, yet to see a single tulip except in a souvenir shop, leave aside the famed tulip garden. Will seek that out tomorrow. And continue my efforts at going dutch with some people
;-)

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Love and Faith

This has been an unusual week in many ways. For the first time, i saw two Bollywood movies in the space of four days.
Both from the same Producer director.
One set in 2012.
The other, a full generation ago, in 1982.

'Jab Tak Hai Jaan' left me with a headache, despite my (Fauji onwards-( the teleserial in the 80s)) love for Shah Rukh Khan's massively energetic screen presence.
'Silsila' left me with admiration and awe, of having seen a movie which, in 1982,  was decades ahead of its times, and in which the protagonists' (Amitabh Bachchan, Jaya Bachchan, Rekha) professionalism comes to the core despite their complex individual equations at that time.

One question from both movies stands out as common.

Faith Vs Love ?
This can manifest itself in various sub questions-

Faith or love
Faith and love
First faith, then love
First love, then faith
Go together
Go separately
One without the other

My take is that Faith is love, and love is faith.

Time to enjoy the beautiful tulips in Amsterdam and the fabulous lyrics of this timeless song. Dekha ek Khwab (click below to watch)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HpoU-s8zVc8

Quizically yours

It was after quite a few years that i participated in a quiz. Yesterday.
Some two decades ago, as an over enthusiastic schoolboy, i would scout for every quiz that was scheduled in Calcutta. And a rag tag outfit from Kendriya Vidyalaya Baliganj, made up of some permutation from Anand Lakshman (the eternal quizmaster, a permanent fixture), Sandeep Padia, Ashish Jain, Arun Prasad and me would land up in whichever part of Calcutta the quiz was scheduled. Rabindra Sadan (Bankura Horse), Dalhousie Institute (North Star, Sportsworld), YMCA, Airport Ashok Hotel, GD Birla Sabhaghar, Birla Science Museum, Doordarshan Kendra at Golf Green Tollygunje, no matter what the place; Barry, Derek, Neil- no matter which O'Brien the quiz master, the boys in white&blue would always be there. We fought hard in many of those quizzes, made the finals in about a third of those, won one, were runners up in a couple, but for most part, were decimated in the prelims itself. Irrespective, there would be no let down in our enthusiasm to reach out and participate.

Participating in Brand Equity Quiz 2012 yesterday at Hyderabad was a journey to that time. Not the least because the outcome was what happened in most cases two decades ago too- we were eliminated in the prelims. But because being a part of the action set the adrenaline racing. The guessing gene got re-activated all of a sudden, and the answer sheet became the canvas to let imagination run wild.

While the nature of quizzing has changed dramatically all these years, with a lot  more television like feel to it, the thrill hasn't diminished one wee bit. Anticipation for the next question, imagination's wild run while scouting for an answer, the agony of the oh-no and the intensity of the fist clenching yesss: they still remain. Alive, vibrant and kicking. And not to forget, the most important decision of my life was facilitated by a quiz contest (interested in knowing how ?- write to me)

And the next question is ...


Sunday, July 8, 2012

Bathing away to glory...

Weekends are fun.
One of the brightest spots on my weekends at home is the time i spend with Jaadoo. Bathing.

Water world comes right here.

And this weekend, we have a new addition to this sport. The pichkaari (water gun) The toy used on the festival of Holi. Jaadoo found out this Holi's pichkaari from his toy bucket. And yesterday, it became the instrument of our water wars.



The game is simple. Whatever a mug, bucket or shower can do, needs to be done with a pichkaari. And this one, ( adorned with Salman Khan's imposing picture as Chulbul Pandey from the Bollywood movie Dabbang) is quite a stunner. Fast paced and furious, this game is not for the faint hearted. The water jet hits you like a laser, stunning you momentarily. The stinging sensation takes a few moments to come off.
The good part is that it helps to get soap and shampoo off quickly and effectively.

Just finished water wars episode-II a while ago this Sunday.
Mission for the week- find a different pichkaari for next Saturday, one which can throw water out in a funnier way.
All suggestions are welcome. 

Friday, March 23, 2012

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Goose bumps !

That feel is back. Unmistakably.

For many years, I was enamored by songs that set the patriotic pulse
racing. For over 7 years, my mobile ringtone was the indian national song,
Sare jahan se achcha hindustan hamara. Ironically, the poet, Mohammed
iqbal, was amongst the first to float the idea of the two nation theory,
which culminated in the partition of india into two dominions in 1947.

These were also the words that Rakesh Sharma, the first indian national
to go in space, told the then prime minister, indira Gandhi, when she asked
him how was india looking like from space.


The indian national anthem was a daily feature of my school assembly, and
was something I always looked forward to.

It always invigorated, it always charged up the morning. It never became my
mobile ring tone, because I felt obligated to stand up every time jana Gana
mana played, and it was not a great idea to stand up every time the mobile
phone rang.

Jana gana mana, became the reason I started liking rabindranath
tagore, its poet. My none too venerated feelings towards tagore earlier were on
account of my bangla textbook, sahaj path, or easy book, of which he was
the author. I used to barely pass the subject ( most times I failed - once I scored a 0 on 10 in a class test ) when I moved to calcutta in
the 80s, and poor performance in bangla meant missing out on an overall
good rank. This led me to attribute my poor academic performance in those
early days in calcutta to tagore.

Redemption for tagore came when I started loving jana gana mana, a few
years later. That he was the only person in the world to author the
national anthem of two countries, Bangladesh being the other, further
elevated his status in the 7 year old's perception.

Later day controversies, speculation around tagore having written jana gana
mana in honour of the prince of Wales' visit to india, could do little to
diminish my adoration of the song.

The words had always been soul stirring !

Yet today, during a random surfing of you tube, when I chanced upon this
link below, I experienced a very different jana gana mana. There are no
words in it, as It is from a group of physically challenged students, who
use sign language to sing, if I can call it that.
The goose bumps are back, the soul is stirring again.
Have seen this video over 20 times in the last hour, and want to see more.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VW-tH9Y6nno

Go ahead, help yourself. Feel uplifted !

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Bombay !

Standing at a vantage point in life, when i am able to neatly bisect my years into almost equal halves, i find myself back to where phase-II of the journey began.

The 24th of October, 1995.
Just yesterday.
The Bhagalpur-Kurla Express logs in to Kurla station on the day of the last total solar eclipse of the (20th) century and deposits me into Bombay as part of the engineering course technical tour.
That is the time, starting with all that Bombay had to offer to a young student tourist, when a whole new world of places, of people, of experiences opened up.
More significantly, it opened up the mind.
Expanded the notions of possibility.
It was like the whiff of fresh air you experience when you watch this song from the (then) blockbuster Bollywood movie, shot at Kurla station, with a board christening it Vasco da Gama (Goa station).

Which other place could have helped me embark on that journey better than Bombay.

Today, as i spend my first relaxed evening in Bombay after decades, i can't but help reflect on the years since that day my train came to Kurla.

The journey from then on has involved a host of people, places and experiences.
Has almost changed me almost completely as a person.
From a shy introvert. From a theoretical idealist. From being judgmental. From a finicky traveler. From being someone with fixated notions.

Seems like big stuff.

Yet, there was nothing exceptional which had happened in that October 1995 trip to Bombay. I went to the Gateway of India. Did a catamaran tour. Went to Taj Mahal Hotel and had the most expensive coffee of my life at Rs. 55. Went to the museum. To the boot house. Toured the aquarium. Juhu. Purchased my first (and last) Nike shoe for Rs 125 at Fashion street (its original, the shopkeeper had told me...i still have no reason to disbelieve). Extensively traveled on the bombay local trains. In doing all that, though, there was a never experienced feeling of being liberated. Of being free. Sans everything. Of having a certain sense of audaciousness. Which, probably, led me to dropping that game changing picture postcard* from a letter-box close to Flora Fountain.

From then on, action has been quite non stop: across countries, across hemi-speheres.

Today, after so many years, and on my nth visit to Bombay, watching all the buzz and energy of its inhabitants around me (despite the numerous challenges that dog them) , i once again get that compelling feeling of possibility. That anything can happen. That lots can be done. That the world continues to be a nice place, inhabited by nice people.

And there is once again an empty canvas in front of me.

I feel good.

Monday, January 9, 2012