This thing has me somewhat addicted. I diligently switch on my TV every week (not once but twice in the week - one day is the contest, and the next day is the results show). Silliness, really, because there is so much hoopla about nothing, but still I am addicted. This thing is called American Idol. And I tune in twice every single week.
Even though this show is a singing contest for young American wannabe's, it almost always turns into a popularity contest in which, each week, the American public votes its least favourite contestant out of the show. In the mean time, the rest of the "lucky" contestants (who claim that it is their life's dream to even BE on the show, forget about winning) belt out popular and sometimes not so popular numbers, throwing in "personality", quirks and silliness in an appeal to fans to text and repeatedly text their devotion so that they may survive another week on the show that claims that more people vote for the American Idol than for the American President.
What I really enjoy watching - and this actually has me rolling in laughter on my couch - is the initial part of the show where they basically open up the contest to anyone and everyone, people who turn up in the thousands to try their hand at what they think is singing. And the samples, oh the samples. All sorts of people, trying all sorts of things. And the poor judges (Randy Jackson, Paula Abdul and Simon Cowell) have to sit through that, and give their comments. And that is really hilarious, actually. Simon Cowell makes such mean remarks (and I think most of the donkeys trying to sing but actually braying really deserve some of those comments), and it makes for a bunch of laughs, every time.
The contestants who make it through all the initial rounds then have to sing each week and the country votes for their favourite. Even this bunch has its share of characters. Take for instance contestant Haley, who shows up each week in teeny tiny shorts and a back-less top and belts out something that borders on shrieking...she finally got voted off on account of the fact that she shows more skin than talent.
But the biggest character to date has been 17 year old Sanjaya Malakar, a somewhat emaciated Indian American (aka ABCD) who is actually really an awful singer. Somehow he made it to the top 12, and from that point on, he caught the public's fancy, and each week, in spite of his ridiculous hairdos, pathetic choice of songs, and really awful singing- gets voted in and stays on in the competition. Apparently teen and pre-teen girls in the country make up the bulk of his fan following. Still, that does not seem enough to keep him in the competition, but miracuoulsy, he stays each week. Some theories floating around, because EVERYBODY is obsessed with the question of "Just WHO is voting for Sanjaya" (here, please remember that we are talking about a public that in general, lives in its own cocoon of a world, not concerned with the real issues that are taking the rest of the world by storm, but really really concerned with the fairly useless set of events that rock their little cushiony world - like the fact that Donald Trump gave the alcoholic Miss USA a second chance at retaining the crown, or the fact that Sanjaya Malakar might just win American Idol). As I was saying, some theories are -
1. Howard Stern is campaigning for "Lets vote for the worst" on his radio shows that bring in Sanjaya's votes
2. Since Sanjaya is an Indian American, some call center in India has been commisioned to do nothing but call in again and again voting for Sanjaya
Anyway, like I was saying, in spite of the sheer silliness of this whole thing, I still tune in every single week to see what's happenning, and what will happen next. Lets hope that I stay away next season and do something more useful with the one hour of time. But for this season, there are exactly six contestants still left, and next week, two of them are going to get voted off. I'm wondering who they will be, and I have a few suspects.
Oh and by the way - Sanjaya got voted off last week. He was finally really just too awful for his own good. I'll miss him, that's for sure.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Monday, February 19, 2007
Win-T(e)rials & Win-T(e)ribulations
We had beautiful Fall Colours in October and November. Then the leaves started to fall. That was December. Balmy weather. Then came January. Still nice and sunny and cool at 60 degrees. What kind of winter was this, everyone asked? People still jogged on the streets in their tiny shorts, and middle aged pot bellied men still drove with their Mercedes convertible top down. Everyone was happy, including us. A friend cautioned - the average winter temperature always stays the same. If its warm now, there will be cold times. It always averages out, he said. We pah-ed his pessimistic talk and continued on our way.
Turns out, he was correct. Someone turned off the warm weather switch right about the 31st of January. Actually it was more like a shorted fuse, because almost immediately, there was wintery darkness and coldness and miserableness all in one.
And finally, last week there was the big storm. Paranoia set in about a week before. It made for all lunch conversations. The weather channel had a field week. The regular channels also took up the cause. Schools closed down. People took off from work (AKA worked from home). And yes, this time the snow did fall, the winds did blow. It was actually kind of beautiful when it was happenning (of course, I watched from a cozy indoor 72 degree spot). The white snow, softly fell, covering every visible surface like white powdery sugar coating.
Then came the fun part. After it was all over, we had to shovel the drive-way. Things we going against us -
1. Sub, Sub Zero temperatures
2. Cold wind blowing, which makes Point Number One look even worse
3. The afore-mentioned beautiful white snow, like white powdery sugar coating now had somehow transformed itself into hard, unrelenting ice
4. The plastic shovel (which we had to borrow from a kind neighbour), when making contact with the afore-mentioned ice, ricocheted back into the air with virtually no impact on the ice. It was like we were pummelling the ice with the shovel and nothing seemed to be happenning.
Things we had going for us-
1. Motivation - to get the damn thing shovelled, at least for one of the cars to be able to get out of the garage, or else we would be grounded until the temperatures rose and the snow melted of its own will (which was not going to happen for a long time)
I am glad to report that after what felt like a really long time, we finally finished the task, and lost a nose, 3 ears and half a lip to frost bite in the process. But Halleluja! We could finally drive the car in and out of the garage.
In less than a month, I have had enough of this Winter. I cannot wait for Spring.
Turns out, he was correct. Someone turned off the warm weather switch right about the 31st of January. Actually it was more like a shorted fuse, because almost immediately, there was wintery darkness and coldness and miserableness all in one.
And finally, last week there was the big storm. Paranoia set in about a week before. It made for all lunch conversations. The weather channel had a field week. The regular channels also took up the cause. Schools closed down. People took off from work (AKA worked from home). And yes, this time the snow did fall, the winds did blow. It was actually kind of beautiful when it was happenning (of course, I watched from a cozy indoor 72 degree spot). The white snow, softly fell, covering every visible surface like white powdery sugar coating.
Then came the fun part. After it was all over, we had to shovel the drive-way. Things we going against us -
1. Sub, Sub Zero temperatures
2. Cold wind blowing, which makes Point Number One look even worse
3. The afore-mentioned beautiful white snow, like white powdery sugar coating now had somehow transformed itself into hard, unrelenting ice
4. The plastic shovel (which we had to borrow from a kind neighbour), when making contact with the afore-mentioned ice, ricocheted back into the air with virtually no impact on the ice. It was like we were pummelling the ice with the shovel and nothing seemed to be happenning.
Things we had going for us-
1. Motivation - to get the damn thing shovelled, at least for one of the cars to be able to get out of the garage, or else we would be grounded until the temperatures rose and the snow melted of its own will (which was not going to happen for a long time)
I am glad to report that after what felt like a really long time, we finally finished the task, and lost a nose, 3 ears and half a lip to frost bite in the process. But Halleluja! We could finally drive the car in and out of the garage.
In less than a month, I have had enough of this Winter. I cannot wait for Spring.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Nanna Bengalooru
My Bangalore. I walked out of the airport after a surprisingly no-hassle experience with customs, et al...I walked into the early morning Bangalore air, cool, yet warmer than I was used to of late, about a hundred people already waiting outside, some 25 or so for loved ones having just landed, the remaining 75 of them taxi and auto drivers looking for customers. And then I spotted my dear brother, who drove me home. But really, I was home the minute the plane I was on for the previous 20 hours, touched the ground.
Its the familiarity of some things that hit you, and the absolute newness of others that have cropped up in the time that you have been away, that make for such an amazing combination, that you cant get enough of the sights, sounds and smells, especially in those first few days. My hungry senses took in the blue BTS buses tumbling down the road, the auto driving blatanly in the wrong direction on a one-way street, the stray dog following the little kid at the construction site, the shack in the corner of the intersection, selling tea in little steel tumblers to early morning hawkers and such. I took in the number and variety of cars on the road, most of them pretty sleek looking, the new multi-rise office buildings, the new malls, the new parks. I stared and stared, taking everything in. We even drove over impresisve fly-overs that were being constructed the last time I was here, but were now complete. There are now fly-overs as well as under-passes.
Then we turned down familiar streets in the direction of home...and I saw more new apartments, office buildings and shopping centers. We avoided certain roads because they were now one-ways, and others because they were not in good condition and still others because of the traffic. My Bangalore had changed in many ways, and in so many ways, it was still the same. I still saw the slums next to the IT offices. We still battled the incessant traffic on our way to anywhere. I still saw the blatant disregard of people towards other people, rules and basic civic behavior. But I also see how many more educated people have jobs, and have options to spend their money. I also see that there is nothing you dont get in Bangalore anymore. I see the egde that being educated and living/working in Bangalore gives you in a global scheme of things.
We drove on, towards home. My brain was in over-drive, processing everything that I was seeing, and my excitement knew no bounds. Excitement, to be with my family again, excitement of driving on the familiar roads and extensions, excitement at the chaos, the noise, the familiar sights. Excitement at being back in my dear Bangalore.
Its the familiarity of some things that hit you, and the absolute newness of others that have cropped up in the time that you have been away, that make for such an amazing combination, that you cant get enough of the sights, sounds and smells, especially in those first few days. My hungry senses took in the blue BTS buses tumbling down the road, the auto driving blatanly in the wrong direction on a one-way street, the stray dog following the little kid at the construction site, the shack in the corner of the intersection, selling tea in little steel tumblers to early morning hawkers and such. I took in the number and variety of cars on the road, most of them pretty sleek looking, the new multi-rise office buildings, the new malls, the new parks. I stared and stared, taking everything in. We even drove over impresisve fly-overs that were being constructed the last time I was here, but were now complete. There are now fly-overs as well as under-passes.
Then we turned down familiar streets in the direction of home...and I saw more new apartments, office buildings and shopping centers. We avoided certain roads because they were now one-ways, and others because they were not in good condition and still others because of the traffic. My Bangalore had changed in many ways, and in so many ways, it was still the same. I still saw the slums next to the IT offices. We still battled the incessant traffic on our way to anywhere. I still saw the blatant disregard of people towards other people, rules and basic civic behavior. But I also see how many more educated people have jobs, and have options to spend their money. I also see that there is nothing you dont get in Bangalore anymore. I see the egde that being educated and living/working in Bangalore gives you in a global scheme of things.
We drove on, towards home. My brain was in over-drive, processing everything that I was seeing, and my excitement knew no bounds. Excitement, to be with my family again, excitement of driving on the familiar roads and extensions, excitement at the chaos, the noise, the familiar sights. Excitement at being back in my dear Bangalore.
Monday, December 25, 2006
I Readeth
I am rather pleased with myself. I have managed to read three books in succession in the last month, and I am onto the fourth. A huge accomplishment for someone who claimed to have no time anymore for this once favourite activity. I guess its just a matter of making the time. In any case, the pleasure was worth it. Here's briefly about the pages I have been burying my somewhat longish nose in:
The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri
I really liked her Pulitzer Prize winner Interpreter of Maladies, which is a collection of really neat short stories, so I was prompted to pick up this one from Barnes and Nobles, two days before my flight to Bangalore. It has taken me two really long cross continental flights and two weeks more to finally finish it. In all honesty, I actually started reading and finished another book in between before I finished this one. The Namesake is actually quite a well put together story...it gets a little long winded in the middle, but I wonder if this is simply my reaction to many things these days....I just have this tendency to snap my fingers and get things done and out of the way quickly....in any case, I like Jhumpa's style of writing, and the story line itself is something I can relate to in some of the pages....its primarily about a boy named, uncannily, Gogol, and his journey through many phases of his life...and his parents who are first generation immigrants to the US from Calcutta. Its heart-wrenchingly human how Gogol despises and is embarrased by his parents' "Indian" ways when he is growing up...how he is eventually affected by his father's untimely death, and how, at the end of the story, his family becomes important to him. Its a non-frilly, down-to-earth style, and a story with very very human emotions. Liked it quite a bit now.
Waiting for the Mahatma by R. K. Narayan
R.K. Narayan's works have always been real classics. Who does not remember 'Swami and his friends' and 'Malgudi Days' with the utmost fondness? One day, I hope to have read all his works, and there are many. But for now, I picked up a copy of 'Waiting for the Mahatma' bought by my brother whose latest claim to fame is that he is an "experimental" reader.
I was not disappointed. Waiting for the Mahatma is set in a time that I am fascinated reading about - the British Raj. More specifically, it is set in the years just before the British finally quit India, and when the Mahatma's image was all important, even in the little town of Malgudi. More than about Gandhi, this story is about the everyday people of British India, the commonners who, uncannily, have no clue about what is really going on, what the freedom movement is really all about. It is about people like Sriram (the main character in the story) and how he relates to the movement, his place and role in the scheme of things. And, in Narayan's inimitable style, it is also about the Mahatma. The story tells about the immaturity of Sriram's youth, how he struggles to grow out of his little corner of the world, what Gandhi and the freedom movement mean to him, and how his infatuation for a girl leads him to do things he would otherwise never ever have done.
What comes through so poignantly in the tale is how ordinary people are involved and yet so far removed from the realities of the movement, and how they actually have no earthly idea about the big picture, living their daily lives in their microcosmic worlds, intrerpreting events in their myopic ways. The reader feels helplessness and sympathy at the same time.
Check it out if you get a chance. As always, R. K Narayan touches something inside you.
The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri
I really liked her Pulitzer Prize winner Interpreter of Maladies, which is a collection of really neat short stories, so I was prompted to pick up this one from Barnes and Nobles, two days before my flight to Bangalore. It has taken me two really long cross continental flights and two weeks more to finally finish it. In all honesty, I actually started reading and finished another book in between before I finished this one. The Namesake is actually quite a well put together story...it gets a little long winded in the middle, but I wonder if this is simply my reaction to many things these days....I just have this tendency to snap my fingers and get things done and out of the way quickly....in any case, I like Jhumpa's style of writing, and the story line itself is something I can relate to in some of the pages....its primarily about a boy named, uncannily, Gogol, and his journey through many phases of his life...and his parents who are first generation immigrants to the US from Calcutta. Its heart-wrenchingly human how Gogol despises and is embarrased by his parents' "Indian" ways when he is growing up...how he is eventually affected by his father's untimely death, and how, at the end of the story, his family becomes important to him. Its a non-frilly, down-to-earth style, and a story with very very human emotions. Liked it quite a bit now.
Waiting for the Mahatma by R. K. Narayan
R.K. Narayan's works have always been real classics. Who does not remember 'Swami and his friends' and 'Malgudi Days' with the utmost fondness? One day, I hope to have read all his works, and there are many. But for now, I picked up a copy of 'Waiting for the Mahatma' bought by my brother whose latest claim to fame is that he is an "experimental" reader.
I was not disappointed. Waiting for the Mahatma is set in a time that I am fascinated reading about - the British Raj. More specifically, it is set in the years just before the British finally quit India, and when the Mahatma's image was all important, even in the little town of Malgudi. More than about Gandhi, this story is about the everyday people of British India, the commonners who, uncannily, have no clue about what is really going on, what the freedom movement is really all about. It is about people like Sriram (the main character in the story) and how he relates to the movement, his place and role in the scheme of things. And, in Narayan's inimitable style, it is also about the Mahatma. The story tells about the immaturity of Sriram's youth, how he struggles to grow out of his little corner of the world, what Gandhi and the freedom movement mean to him, and how his infatuation for a girl leads him to do things he would otherwise never ever have done.
What comes through so poignantly in the tale is how ordinary people are involved and yet so far removed from the realities of the movement, and how they actually have no earthly idea about the big picture, living their daily lives in their microcosmic worlds, intrerpreting events in their myopic ways. The reader feels helplessness and sympathy at the same time.
Check it out if you get a chance. As always, R. K Narayan touches something inside you.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Windy City, Second City
Chicago - A surprise.
I was expecting a cold, dowdy, sixties style city with bad neighbourhoods, and pathetic winter weather. Hmm. I guess I need to eat my words, not buy into stereotype that is often misplaced, and to actually "be there and do that", to make my opinion about something.
Downtown Chiacago is a beautiful place. The architecture is often a blend of ancient and modern, but this very mix is somewhat pleasing to the eye. It does have a Manhatten feel, but in a really nice way. The evening sunlight lent shimmery, glowing dancing lights on the canal that runs through and walking through the hustle and bustle with a hot latte felt really nice. Lots to see and do, shop, etc.
Lake Michigan is beautiful. Its huge, a brilliant blue-green in the sunlight, and the skyline of the famous city looks rather breath-taking as a backdrop. Warning, it is windy though, and temperatures near the lake are around 10 degrees Farenheit lower than in the heart of the city. And the winds. Oh my God, the winds, they can actually threaten to blow you away, and freeze the very marrow in your bones. And this was in October.
Suburban Chicago is nice as well. Not as pretty as the East Coast, but nice nevertheless.
Second City. Something we checked out, came recommended. I guess its a Comedy Club with history. Lots of famous people started their careers here, I believe. In any case, we went for a show called:
I would break down the entertainment value as follows:
Funny: 60%
Slapstick: 30%
Fell really flat: 10%
But those sun-of-a-gun comedians are a talented bunch. The "improvization" piece actually show-cased their abilities to come up with funny stuff on the spot. And some of it was actually very funny.
All in all, pretty decent value for the money. And the Margaritas helped as well.
My weekend in Chiacgo, a neat get-a-way from work, and the regular regular. I will go again if I get a chance.
I was expecting a cold, dowdy, sixties style city with bad neighbourhoods, and pathetic winter weather. Hmm. I guess I need to eat my words, not buy into stereotype that is often misplaced, and to actually "be there and do that", to make my opinion about something.
Downtown Chiacago is a beautiful place. The architecture is often a blend of ancient and modern, but this very mix is somewhat pleasing to the eye. It does have a Manhatten feel, but in a really nice way. The evening sunlight lent shimmery, glowing dancing lights on the canal that runs through and walking through the hustle and bustle with a hot latte felt really nice. Lots to see and do, shop, etc.
Lake Michigan is beautiful. Its huge, a brilliant blue-green in the sunlight, and the skyline of the famous city looks rather breath-taking as a backdrop. Warning, it is windy though, and temperatures near the lake are around 10 degrees Farenheit lower than in the heart of the city. And the winds. Oh my God, the winds, they can actually threaten to blow you away, and freeze the very marrow in your bones. And this was in October.
Suburban Chicago is nice as well. Not as pretty as the East Coast, but nice nevertheless.
Second City. Something we checked out, came recommended. I guess its a Comedy Club with history. Lots of famous people started their careers here, I believe. In any case, we went for a show called:
I would break down the entertainment value as follows:
Funny: 60%
Slapstick: 30%
Fell really flat: 10%
But those sun-of-a-gun comedians are a talented bunch. The "improvization" piece actually show-cased their abilities to come up with funny stuff on the spot. And some of it was actually very funny.
All in all, pretty decent value for the money. And the Margaritas helped as well.
My weekend in Chiacgo, a neat get-a-way from work, and the regular regular. I will go again if I get a chance.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Kids and Financial Education
Today I was a volunteer at the Capital One Finance Park, a collaboration of Capital One and Junior Achievement (a not-for-profit organization sponsored by corporate and individual contributors that brings programs to school children, teaching them how they can impact the world around them as individuals, workers and consumers. Junior Achievement programs continue through the middle and high school grades, preparing students for future economic and workforce issues they'll face.). So we helped 12 year old kids walk through real life scenarios, given a fixed income and various expenses (family to look after, etc) and a budget to spend their income. It was a lot of fun, and I learned a couple of things:
1. These kids are smart
2. They know a lot more about managing finances than I ever did at their age (maybe through programs such as this one)
3. There is a lot you can teach kids, and if you attempt to teach them in the right way, they will amaze you with how they learn/apply
Some things I was amazed by:
1. The Desi kid who was way ahead of the rest of the group I was working with, and finished all his calculations way ahead and then sat looking bored while the rest struggled to catch up (and all his numbers were perfectly right)
2. The little girl who was given only 20K as her annual income and who had 2 small kids, and she made a decision to buy a slightly more expensive furniture set as compared to the cheapest available option, because her reasoning was that the more expensive set included a cot, and other items that could be used by her kids whereas the cheaper furniture set included some useless things such as leather couch, etc. She figured that she could cut back on buying a cheaper car and buy the furniture for her kids instead. A 12 year old's reasoning...wow!
Other things that were really impressive:
* The infratructure and set up of the whole things - makeshift real life scanarios with banks, stores, car dealerships, etc etc that the kids could walk through, and the real life simulations of how they could spend their money, etc
* The amount of thought and careful construction of these scenarios, training and organization of the whole thing
* Marketing Capital One's Brand!! Live taping by CNN (!) and huge publicity for Capital One, which takes its brand image and this whole "giving back to the community" pretty seriously!!
So, will I be on a live show on CNN...? Not sure, but do let me know if you spot me someday!
I just love being on Capital One's Community Corps Board, and being an active volunteer in this and other volunteer activities. Great stuff, and looking forward to many many more.
For more info on this event, click on:
http://phx.corporate-ir.net/phoenix.zhtml?c=70667&p=irol-newsArticle2&ID=909326&highlight=
For more info on Junior Achievment, check out
http://www.ja.org/
1. These kids are smart
2. They know a lot more about managing finances than I ever did at their age (maybe through programs such as this one)
3. There is a lot you can teach kids, and if you attempt to teach them in the right way, they will amaze you with how they learn/apply
Some things I was amazed by:
1. The Desi kid who was way ahead of the rest of the group I was working with, and finished all his calculations way ahead and then sat looking bored while the rest struggled to catch up (and all his numbers were perfectly right)
2. The little girl who was given only 20K as her annual income and who had 2 small kids, and she made a decision to buy a slightly more expensive furniture set as compared to the cheapest available option, because her reasoning was that the more expensive set included a cot, and other items that could be used by her kids whereas the cheaper furniture set included some useless things such as leather couch, etc. She figured that she could cut back on buying a cheaper car and buy the furniture for her kids instead. A 12 year old's reasoning...wow!
Other things that were really impressive:
* The infratructure and set up of the whole things - makeshift real life scanarios with banks, stores, car dealerships, etc etc that the kids could walk through, and the real life simulations of how they could spend their money, etc
* The amount of thought and careful construction of these scenarios, training and organization of the whole thing
* Marketing Capital One's Brand!! Live taping by CNN (!) and huge publicity for Capital One, which takes its brand image and this whole "giving back to the community" pretty seriously!!
So, will I be on a live show on CNN...? Not sure, but do let me know if you spot me someday!
I just love being on Capital One's Community Corps Board, and being an active volunteer in this and other volunteer activities. Great stuff, and looking forward to many many more.
For more info on this event, click on:
http://phx.corporate-ir.net/phoenix.zhtml?c=70667&p=irol-newsArticle2&ID=909326&highlight=
For more info on Junior Achievment, check out
http://www.ja.org/
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Buenos dias Mexico!
The weekend was here, and we couldn't wait to be off...6 months, lotsa work-related work later, we were ready for a vacation. Thanks to AA miles, soon we were flying business class to Cancun Mexico. With much anticipation, we got off at the airport, and smelled Madras India- not at all in a bad way, but just that muggy, humid, extra-warm air...so different from the insipid, sterile US air, so reminiscent of India, and so excitingly foreign.
Mexico is a place that reminded me totally of India. Apart from Cancun (I'll come to this later), the rest of the place is typical "Des". The countryside, the weather, the water (not to be trusted), everything resembles India - with one exception - the roads. This will tie into my later point about Cancun- but to sum it up, the roads are great. Totally facilitates going from point A to point B in decent shape and form, which is one of the few things that a tourist can really ask for.
As for Cancun, its like mini-US. Totally caters to the Western tourist going there to enjoy and spend lots and lots of American dollars. But no-one complains- after all, the white sands, blue waters, sight-seeing/adventure options, and happenning night-life are all well worth it to tourists hungry for the ultimate carribean experience. So, as I was saying, Cancun looks and feels pretty much like the US. The hotels, beaches, and clubs cater to tourists. The only thing that makes it "Mexican" are - well, the Mexicans. All over the place (as one would expect, since it is their country), and in Cancun, most of them speak English, and all of them take your American Dollars in addition to Pesos (and usually make a good arbitrage profit with the exchange rate- we fell for it too, in spite of being warned at the airport by a well-meaning official). Ah yes, that reminds me - the airport in Cancun would give any other fancy international airport a good run for its money. These people have basically got it right. They realized what a gold mine they have as a tourist destination, and have built the infrastructure and system to support it. And as a result, they're making billions of dollars. It makes me want the same for India - we have so many breath-takingly beautiful places in India that can be show-cased to the world and can be potential big-time tourist destinations, if only the infrastructure and facilities are provided right...but this is changing too, somewhat...and more and more of these are cropping up...all for the better.
And what did we do in Cancun? We visited the thousand year old Chi-chen Itza pyramid, the ruins at Tulum (which, high on a cliff right by the blue waters of the Carribean, makes for a spectacularly beautiful sight). We also visited Xel-ha, a natural fresh-water lagoon rich in aquatic and marine life. Here we swam, tubed, and ah- snorkeled. What beautiful fish we saw, colourful parrot fish, big huge mantaray's and scores of other little creatures that dazzled with their colours, sizes and movements...We also tanned ourselves severely on the beaches, splashed incessantly in the blue ocean, and visited a couple of bars, did some couvenier shopping.
And how did we fare with our Spanish? Like I said, it was fine in Cancun, but in some of the other places - we did have some trouble. The sequence went something like this - first we would say something in English, then the guy would say something in Spanish. Incomprehension from both parties. Then he would whip out a calculator and show us the amount we had to pay for the souvenier. Ah, but we wanted to bargain (which is the done thing in Mexico). So we're at it again, not reaching a concensus, because basically we dont get what the other is saying. Then we try gesturing. Doesnt do it. Then we try facial expressions. No luck. Then we try body actions, and mimicking. Nopes, dont work. Finally, we say "No English?". He shakes his head regretfully. Then he says, "No espanol?" We shake our head regretfully. Then we both give up and go our separate ways.
After a sun-drenched, beach-satiated, thorougly relaxing holiday, we returned home, albeit a little sooner than we might have wanted. Cancun, Mexico - a must-do sometime, somewhere.
Mexico is a place that reminded me totally of India. Apart from Cancun (I'll come to this later), the rest of the place is typical "Des". The countryside, the weather, the water (not to be trusted), everything resembles India - with one exception - the roads. This will tie into my later point about Cancun- but to sum it up, the roads are great. Totally facilitates going from point A to point B in decent shape and form, which is one of the few things that a tourist can really ask for.
As for Cancun, its like mini-US. Totally caters to the Western tourist going there to enjoy and spend lots and lots of American dollars. But no-one complains- after all, the white sands, blue waters, sight-seeing/adventure options, and happenning night-life are all well worth it to tourists hungry for the ultimate carribean experience. So, as I was saying, Cancun looks and feels pretty much like the US. The hotels, beaches, and clubs cater to tourists. The only thing that makes it "Mexican" are - well, the Mexicans. All over the place (as one would expect, since it is their country), and in Cancun, most of them speak English, and all of them take your American Dollars in addition to Pesos (and usually make a good arbitrage profit with the exchange rate- we fell for it too, in spite of being warned at the airport by a well-meaning official). Ah yes, that reminds me - the airport in Cancun would give any other fancy international airport a good run for its money. These people have basically got it right. They realized what a gold mine they have as a tourist destination, and have built the infrastructure and system to support it. And as a result, they're making billions of dollars. It makes me want the same for India - we have so many breath-takingly beautiful places in India that can be show-cased to the world and can be potential big-time tourist destinations, if only the infrastructure and facilities are provided right...but this is changing too, somewhat...and more and more of these are cropping up...all for the better.
And what did we do in Cancun? We visited the thousand year old Chi-chen Itza pyramid, the ruins at Tulum (which, high on a cliff right by the blue waters of the Carribean, makes for a spectacularly beautiful sight). We also visited Xel-ha, a natural fresh-water lagoon rich in aquatic and marine life. Here we swam, tubed, and ah- snorkeled. What beautiful fish we saw, colourful parrot fish, big huge mantaray's and scores of other little creatures that dazzled with their colours, sizes and movements...We also tanned ourselves severely on the beaches, splashed incessantly in the blue ocean, and visited a couple of bars, did some couvenier shopping.
And how did we fare with our Spanish? Like I said, it was fine in Cancun, but in some of the other places - we did have some trouble. The sequence went something like this - first we would say something in English, then the guy would say something in Spanish. Incomprehension from both parties. Then he would whip out a calculator and show us the amount we had to pay for the souvenier. Ah, but we wanted to bargain (which is the done thing in Mexico). So we're at it again, not reaching a concensus, because basically we dont get what the other is saying. Then we try gesturing. Doesnt do it. Then we try facial expressions. No luck. Then we try body actions, and mimicking. Nopes, dont work. Finally, we say "No English?". He shakes his head regretfully. Then he says, "No espanol?" We shake our head regretfully. Then we both give up and go our separate ways.
After a sun-drenched, beach-satiated, thorougly relaxing holiday, we returned home, albeit a little sooner than we might have wanted. Cancun, Mexico - a must-do sometime, somewhere.
Friday, June 02, 2006
LA Vs. DC - Part III
Okay, you're convinced by now that I'm just a die-hard Californian who'se cribbing about coming down to DC....au contraire, my friends...
I never thought that such drastic transformations were possible in nature. When it's almost as if you go to sleep one night, and everything is as it usually is...you know, dreary and leafless, and lifeless and all wintery...and you wake up the next morning, and somewhere during the previous night, this inexplicable force waved a magic wand over the entire place, and the dreariness was washed out, and in its place swept in this breath-takingly beautiful swish of colours...all, all over the place!
The cherry blossoms were more beautiful than I could ever have imagined. Pink and white...like a canopy of hue against the blue skies...every street, every road lined with blossomming trees of every imaginable colour...how very beautiful...
In LA, there are no changing seasons. No spring colours, just the same kind of weather all year round. Nice in a way, no sudden surprises...but also boring.
In DC - Highways, city, country-side...no matter where you are, there's a fresh sight to behold everywhere. Sometimes, when you round a bend, a huge flowering tree so gorgeous can make you stop in your tracks, and momentarily wonder at how bounteous and beautiful nature can really be, and how varied and intricate and amazing life really is.
Round Three - Colourful, colourful DC
I never thought that such drastic transformations were possible in nature. When it's almost as if you go to sleep one night, and everything is as it usually is...you know, dreary and leafless, and lifeless and all wintery...and you wake up the next morning, and somewhere during the previous night, this inexplicable force waved a magic wand over the entire place, and the dreariness was washed out, and in its place swept in this breath-takingly beautiful swish of colours...all, all over the place!
The cherry blossoms were more beautiful than I could ever have imagined. Pink and white...like a canopy of hue against the blue skies...every street, every road lined with blossomming trees of every imaginable colour...how very beautiful...
In LA, there are no changing seasons. No spring colours, just the same kind of weather all year round. Nice in a way, no sudden surprises...but also boring.
In DC - Highways, city, country-side...no matter where you are, there's a fresh sight to behold everywhere. Sometimes, when you round a bend, a huge flowering tree so gorgeous can make you stop in your tracks, and momentarily wonder at how bounteous and beautiful nature can really be, and how varied and intricate and amazing life really is.
Round Three - Colourful, colourful DC
Sunday, April 16, 2006
LA Vs. DC - Part II
These DC Drivers...
Its an old fact that LA's traffic is bad. That it's so bad, that apparently, and this is the part I don't believe- that some people (and these are East Coastans - surprised? I'm not) claim that they will never move to LA because of the traffic. Yeah, right.
I tend to somewhat agree with the fact that LA's traffic can get to your sanity. I've coursed LA's infamous freeways so much, driven from county to county so much, and been stuck in traffic so many zillions of times, that I would readily agree with anyone-even East Coastans, that LA's traffic is its biggest bane. There have been many a time when I would be sitting on 405, switching between 104.5 fm and the traffic update channel, outwardly calm, trying to think of alternate routes, but desperation bubbling inside, threatening to blow my sanity along with it.
Yes, LA's traffic is bad, people. BUT- and this is the part that might get some of these locals a tad bit testy - here is my take on traffic in DC. It's not as bad as LA, although everyone complains, but it's the DC drivers that have me gasping and gagging (and swearing) when I'm driving around. Yes, they are a rude bunch, methinks. They honk you out of pleasant day-dreams while you're waiting at a signal light, they scare the living daylights out of poor old Mr. and Mrs. Smith (who are in their 80's at least, out on an evening walk) at the pedestrian crossing, and they dont seem to care about the concept of waiting to let someone else have the right of way, if they absolutely dont have to. Somewhat reminiscent of the New York cab drivers, no?
Say what you will about LA's traffic. I for one always thought that they LA drivers were examples of courtesy. Countless times have they waited to let people cross, drivers drive ahead of them, and wait patiently in a huge long queue of traffic, not honking. Yes, these LA drivers zip on the freeways at 80+...but they're as patient as job at all other times. And if you, standing for all the good things that LA drivers stand for, wait at a Stop sign to let another car have the right of way, then the DC guy behind you honks loud and long to let you know you're really pissing him off. Abominable!
Round 2 - the city of Angels, my friends.
Its an old fact that LA's traffic is bad. That it's so bad, that apparently, and this is the part I don't believe- that some people (and these are East Coastans - surprised? I'm not) claim that they will never move to LA because of the traffic. Yeah, right.
I tend to somewhat agree with the fact that LA's traffic can get to your sanity. I've coursed LA's infamous freeways so much, driven from county to county so much, and been stuck in traffic so many zillions of times, that I would readily agree with anyone-even East Coastans, that LA's traffic is its biggest bane. There have been many a time when I would be sitting on 405, switching between 104.5 fm and the traffic update channel, outwardly calm, trying to think of alternate routes, but desperation bubbling inside, threatening to blow my sanity along with it.
Yes, LA's traffic is bad, people. BUT- and this is the part that might get some of these locals a tad bit testy - here is my take on traffic in DC. It's not as bad as LA, although everyone complains, but it's the DC drivers that have me gasping and gagging (and swearing) when I'm driving around. Yes, they are a rude bunch, methinks. They honk you out of pleasant day-dreams while you're waiting at a signal light, they scare the living daylights out of poor old Mr. and Mrs. Smith (who are in their 80's at least, out on an evening walk) at the pedestrian crossing, and they dont seem to care about the concept of waiting to let someone else have the right of way, if they absolutely dont have to. Somewhat reminiscent of the New York cab drivers, no?
Say what you will about LA's traffic. I for one always thought that they LA drivers were examples of courtesy. Countless times have they waited to let people cross, drivers drive ahead of them, and wait patiently in a huge long queue of traffic, not honking. Yes, these LA drivers zip on the freeways at 80+...but they're as patient as job at all other times. And if you, standing for all the good things that LA drivers stand for, wait at a Stop sign to let another car have the right of way, then the DC guy behind you honks loud and long to let you know you're really pissing him off. Abominable!
Round 2 - the city of Angels, my friends.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
LA Vs. DC - Part I
Ok, you guessed it. It HAS to be about the weather.
I got out at Dulles, DC and expected a blizzard. I was wrong. No raging snowstorm, no bone-chilling winds. Days passed, temperatures were low, mind you...much lower than the sunny land I had left behind, but still, it was not the weather shock I had been warned about. Weeks pass, no snow, and I look questioningly about at the people who are the veterans of winter weather, these East_Coastans, and they look at me with a mixture of pity and sympathy and encouragement and say "You're so lucky, this has been SUCH a mild winter"....which I heard as many times as I heard "What-ever made you move from LA to DC??"..ah, yes, that million dollar question.
Well, that was January and February. Then came March. Then we had the snowstorm. Then there were the cold winds. Then there were the sub-zero temperatures. Spring? Think again, my friends. These were the times when I could so vividly picture in my mind warm, really warm, almost hot LA and Orange County, and wearing my shorts and T-shirt and flip-flops...walking on the warm sands of the beaches, the breeze in my face, the tan on my skin....and NOT shivering everytime I step out of the car, not having to run from the car into a building, and not have to layer up all the damn time.
Ok, I'm a drama queen...I know that. But really, is this fun? No, I dont think so. "Youre lucky", people said. "Such a mild winter, this..". Oh really? Great, I feel so lucky, I cant stop shivering.
Round One: Do I even need to spell it out? Its LA by a wide, wholloping shot.
I got out at Dulles, DC and expected a blizzard. I was wrong. No raging snowstorm, no bone-chilling winds. Days passed, temperatures were low, mind you...much lower than the sunny land I had left behind, but still, it was not the weather shock I had been warned about. Weeks pass, no snow, and I look questioningly about at the people who are the veterans of winter weather, these East_Coastans, and they look at me with a mixture of pity and sympathy and encouragement and say "You're so lucky, this has been SUCH a mild winter"....which I heard as many times as I heard "What-ever made you move from LA to DC??"..ah, yes, that million dollar question.
Well, that was January and February. Then came March. Then we had the snowstorm. Then there were the cold winds. Then there were the sub-zero temperatures. Spring? Think again, my friends. These were the times when I could so vividly picture in my mind warm, really warm, almost hot LA and Orange County, and wearing my shorts and T-shirt and flip-flops...walking on the warm sands of the beaches, the breeze in my face, the tan on my skin....and NOT shivering everytime I step out of the car, not having to run from the car into a building, and not have to layer up all the damn time.
Ok, I'm a drama queen...I know that. But really, is this fun? No, I dont think so. "Youre lucky", people said. "Such a mild winter, this..". Oh really? Great, I feel so lucky, I cant stop shivering.
Round One: Do I even need to spell it out? Its LA by a wide, wholloping shot.
Saturday, November 19, 2005
This Blogging Bit
This Blogging bit boggles the brain. The question I am grappling with currently is why it is so difficult to keep this up. At this point, I do a quick re-cap:
Rate at which I start to write a blog: once in 3 months
Rate at which I complete writing a blog: once in 4 months (ha! now you calculate how this is possible!)
Rate at which I remember that I have a blog: Once in a blue moon
:(((((((((
Sad....really and truly sad. My claim to be a part-time writer, my so-called passion for the written word, the dictum I stand by that the pen is mightier than the sword....all blown to pieces by hard evidence of how I maintain my Blog site.
I remember the enthu with which I started this. For days, I thought of the Blog title. For weeks I worked on the page format. For months I worked on my opening statements. Then something got in the way. It was called Life. Yes, and it included this and that, and that and this, and my poor blog site got pushed to the back of my brain, and to the back of my browser cache.
I struggle to make sense of this apparent contradiction. On the one hand, I love to write. I know this for a true-blue fact. I am particularly good with the creative word and how to express thoughts in my mind on paper, or on the keyboard. I have access to my computer, I have thoughts (never-ending, I might add), and writing lets me release positive energy. And yet, this poor blog site is called upon once in a blue moon.
Which brings me back to the concept of Blogging. Is it a fad that is then on it's way out? Is it a platform for personal expression, or a link to be sent for circulation? Is it a way to let the world know that you can write, or is it a means to make a statement on anything and everything? Am I already bored with this blogging bit?
Upon reflection, the answer to that is "no". I am not done here yet. I feel very much like quoting Robert Frost who said famously, "I have miles to go before I sleep, I have miles to go before I sleep". I guess I have many more thoughts, experiences, perceptions and opinions to ink. It might be intermittent, it might be once in a blue moon, but guess what, the blog belongs to me! Which means I can do with it as I please.
Upon further reflection, I realize that this is exactly what happens to me everytime (which is once in a blue moon) that I log in to my blog site. I see the depressingly short list of blogs, and I am energized out of my writing inertia to add another blog. Then I'm gone for weeks...what is this mystery then (is it writer's block? Ha! Fat chance)...?
Until I figure that out, I ask whoever is gracious enough to visit this blog site to put up with this beleagured blogger who has bungled this boggling blogging bit....for the moment. And many thanks! :)
Rate at which I start to write a blog: once in 3 months
Rate at which I complete writing a blog: once in 4 months (ha! now you calculate how this is possible!)
Rate at which I remember that I have a blog: Once in a blue moon
:(((((((((
Sad....really and truly sad. My claim to be a part-time writer, my so-called passion for the written word, the dictum I stand by that the pen is mightier than the sword....all blown to pieces by hard evidence of how I maintain my Blog site.
I remember the enthu with which I started this. For days, I thought of the Blog title. For weeks I worked on the page format. For months I worked on my opening statements. Then something got in the way. It was called Life. Yes, and it included this and that, and that and this, and my poor blog site got pushed to the back of my brain, and to the back of my browser cache.
I struggle to make sense of this apparent contradiction. On the one hand, I love to write. I know this for a true-blue fact. I am particularly good with the creative word and how to express thoughts in my mind on paper, or on the keyboard. I have access to my computer, I have thoughts (never-ending, I might add), and writing lets me release positive energy. And yet, this poor blog site is called upon once in a blue moon.
Which brings me back to the concept of Blogging. Is it a fad that is then on it's way out? Is it a platform for personal expression, or a link to be sent for circulation? Is it a way to let the world know that you can write, or is it a means to make a statement on anything and everything? Am I already bored with this blogging bit?
Upon reflection, the answer to that is "no". I am not done here yet. I feel very much like quoting Robert Frost who said famously, "I have miles to go before I sleep, I have miles to go before I sleep". I guess I have many more thoughts, experiences, perceptions and opinions to ink. It might be intermittent, it might be once in a blue moon, but guess what, the blog belongs to me! Which means I can do with it as I please.
Upon further reflection, I realize that this is exactly what happens to me everytime (which is once in a blue moon) that I log in to my blog site. I see the depressingly short list of blogs, and I am energized out of my writing inertia to add another blog. Then I'm gone for weeks...what is this mystery then (is it writer's block? Ha! Fat chance)...?
Until I figure that out, I ask whoever is gracious enough to visit this blog site to put up with this beleagured blogger who has bungled this boggling blogging bit....for the moment. And many thanks! :)
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Raging Rajani & Loquacious Leela
This is an ode to those colorful characters whom I recently happened to remember...those stalwarts of South Indian cinema, who have, over the many many years, provided more entertainment to the masses (including the likes of us "elites") than they have been given due credit for....so, I decided, these guys deserve a bit of ink...even as I recall them and their antics with fondness (?), a certain heightening of my senses, and yes, laughter...plenty of laughter.
A friend sent me a link to a Kannada song website which triggered it all off..a link to a song that went as follows...(Here, you have to really get into trying to sing a Kannada song with English lyrics with a Kannada accent)..."Life is a merrrrrrrrrrrry mellloddy.......life is a haaaaanting rhapsody....". I have to admit I didn't get past those two lines...it was a different matter that the lyrics were really quite indecipherable, but I was busy rolling on the ground laughing my head off...
But once I scrambled back onto my chair, and wiped off the tears, I scrolled through the rest of the movie list, and saw some classics...."Prema Loka" was one such....and when I clicked on "Nodamma hudugi, kelamma sariyagi"....I could visualize Juhi Chawla, in her white mini-skirt...the hot new babe in college...and Ravi Chandran, the college rowdy-to-turn-irresistible-hero, with his bee-hive hairdo, tight white pants, and the smouldering look...singing "hosa hudugi antha bidtheeni, naale indha nodkoltheeni, underrrrstaaand?"....what a hoot!
The other character who deserves an honorable mention here is Vishnu Vardhan...who as far as I remember always, always had a paunch, wore white pants and matching white shoes, and a lock of hair falling over his forehead...
Hailing from Bangalore and not including Lingo Leela of the Radio City fame would be unacceptable, so here is my toast to "Colloquial Class with Miss Lingo Leela". Excerpts...
"Wellcome to calloquial class. Today's word of the day yis.."Jing-Jak". Yit myeans to suggest ye bright multi-colored blinding yand gaady piece of clothing. For yegzample, " Rajeshwari, yene neenu langa dhawani haakondu olle jing-jak aagi bandhidya". Myeans, "Ey Rajeshwari, what man, you have worn ye haalf saari and are looking draap-dead gaargeous, like ye baambshell".
But the high-point of this ode is to none other than the (in)famous RajaniKanth...who is next only to God in million's of people's eyes, I'm told. My picturization of RajaniKanth is of a guy with black baggy pants, white keds, sleeveless, red vest (banyan), unruly hair, cigarette in mouth (of course), and loads and loads of attitude. Do I need to go into his famed stunts (watch out James Bond), unparalleled in Indian Cinema (except maybe by Mithun Chakravorty...no...for sure Mithun comes a possible second...Rajani RULES)...
Imagine if all movie stars looked and behaved like Tom Cruise or Shah Rukh Khan...how boring. What would life be without these colorful characters, so much a part of our childhood memories...
I'm so glad that we got to witness these characters (in moderation, thank God), so that now, years later....we can send emails, reminisce, laugh, and have a happy moment.
A friend sent me a link to a Kannada song website which triggered it all off..a link to a song that went as follows...(Here, you have to really get into trying to sing a Kannada song with English lyrics with a Kannada accent)..."Life is a merrrrrrrrrrrry mellloddy.......life is a haaaaanting rhapsody....". I have to admit I didn't get past those two lines...it was a different matter that the lyrics were really quite indecipherable, but I was busy rolling on the ground laughing my head off...
But once I scrambled back onto my chair, and wiped off the tears, I scrolled through the rest of the movie list, and saw some classics...."Prema Loka" was one such....and when I clicked on "Nodamma hudugi, kelamma sariyagi"....I could visualize Juhi Chawla, in her white mini-skirt...the hot new babe in college...and Ravi Chandran, the college rowdy-to-turn-irresistible-hero, with his bee-hive hairdo, tight white pants, and the smouldering look...singing "hosa hudugi antha bidtheeni, naale indha nodkoltheeni, underrrrstaaand?"....what a hoot!
The other character who deserves an honorable mention here is Vishnu Vardhan...who as far as I remember always, always had a paunch, wore white pants and matching white shoes, and a lock of hair falling over his forehead...
Hailing from Bangalore and not including Lingo Leela of the Radio City fame would be unacceptable, so here is my toast to "Colloquial Class with Miss Lingo Leela". Excerpts...
"Wellcome to calloquial class. Today's word of the day yis.."Jing-Jak". Yit myeans to suggest ye bright multi-colored blinding yand gaady piece of clothing. For yegzample, " Rajeshwari, yene neenu langa dhawani haakondu olle jing-jak aagi bandhidya". Myeans, "Ey Rajeshwari, what man, you have worn ye haalf saari and are looking draap-dead gaargeous, like ye baambshell".
But the high-point of this ode is to none other than the (in)famous RajaniKanth...who is next only to God in million's of people's eyes, I'm told. My picturization of RajaniKanth is of a guy with black baggy pants, white keds, sleeveless, red vest (banyan), unruly hair, cigarette in mouth (of course), and loads and loads of attitude. Do I need to go into his famed stunts (watch out James Bond), unparalleled in Indian Cinema (except maybe by Mithun Chakravorty...no...for sure Mithun comes a possible second...Rajani RULES)...
Imagine if all movie stars looked and behaved like Tom Cruise or Shah Rukh Khan...how boring. What would life be without these colorful characters, so much a part of our childhood memories...
I'm so glad that we got to witness these characters (in moderation, thank God), so that now, years later....we can send emails, reminisce, laugh, and have a happy moment.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Summer in SoCal
The weekend was here, and all we wanted to do was get away and de-stress and do something fun. So off we headed to La Jolla, San Diego. We were told of famous sea caves there where kayaking was supposedly a pretty amazing experience. So, water-sport buffs that we are, decided to take the plunge.
The first evening we spent driving around San Diego, from the beautiful Coronado Island to the "historic" Gas Lamp District. It never ceases to amuse me the way Americans call something about 75 years old "historic". Being Indian, and having seen places and things in India that are thousands and thousands of years old, so incredibly beautiful in their seeming timelessness, I am amazed at how short history is to Americans...in any case, the "historic" Gas Lamp district has buildings that are not the regular modern-day concrete monsters, but well...."historic" in the sense of having architecture about 100 years old...and of course, a few lamps on street corners that run on gas (hence the name). So much for that.
The next day we headed on to La Jolla, which is truly a beautiful place. Of course, we went there on a beautiful day, warm and sunny, clear skies which made the ocean look bluer and more inviting. Soon, we were on a kayak together, paddling through what seemed to be an amazingly calm ocean....just like a giant, endless swimming pool. We paddled, and paddled and paddled...and saw the sea caves...waves lashing onto cave openings that looked so dark, and mysterious and inviting...but we had strict instructions not to venture close to the cave openings, so we had to be satisfied with looking from a small distance...still a magnificent sight...layers of the cave surfaces proof of hundreds of years of erosion, and beautiful cave formations...and of course we saw sea lions...almost blended into the background of the cliffs....lying around soaking up the sun, not a care in the world...their only worry seemed to be that they had to share the rocks with the pelicans...thousands of them.
We paddled some more, and in the distance saw a couple of dolphins....only fleeting glimpses, but enough cause for excitement. Then, we came to the tiger sharks....so many of them! And so close to the sea shore....they were right there, swimming beneath our kayaks...slick creatures with tiger stripes on their bodies...supposedly harmless. I experienced a moment of panicky doubt...what if they were actually not THAT harm-less and what if the crashing waves overturned my kayak, and what if I suddenly found myself swimming amongst the sharkies...before my wild imagination ruined my confidence, I paddled furiously away from the spot into deeper and more safer (in my mind) waters...in any case...some other sightings included a huge brilliantly pink and red jelly fish (beautiful creature), and sea lions propped up on buoys in the middle of the ocean, taking a break from swimming around. And of course, we were sharing the ocean with human swimmers who seemed to be swimming miles and miles in deep sea. Admirable stamina.
All in all, a great trip, a dose of blue water, warm sands and a sun-drenched kayaking stint testament to the famous Southern California experience! Comes highly recommended by this fan of the ocean.
The first evening we spent driving around San Diego, from the beautiful Coronado Island to the "historic" Gas Lamp District. It never ceases to amuse me the way Americans call something about 75 years old "historic". Being Indian, and having seen places and things in India that are thousands and thousands of years old, so incredibly beautiful in their seeming timelessness, I am amazed at how short history is to Americans...in any case, the "historic" Gas Lamp district has buildings that are not the regular modern-day concrete monsters, but well...."historic" in the sense of having architecture about 100 years old...and of course, a few lamps on street corners that run on gas (hence the name). So much for that.
The next day we headed on to La Jolla, which is truly a beautiful place. Of course, we went there on a beautiful day, warm and sunny, clear skies which made the ocean look bluer and more inviting. Soon, we were on a kayak together, paddling through what seemed to be an amazingly calm ocean....just like a giant, endless swimming pool. We paddled, and paddled and paddled...and saw the sea caves...waves lashing onto cave openings that looked so dark, and mysterious and inviting...but we had strict instructions not to venture close to the cave openings, so we had to be satisfied with looking from a small distance...still a magnificent sight...layers of the cave surfaces proof of hundreds of years of erosion, and beautiful cave formations...and of course we saw sea lions...almost blended into the background of the cliffs....lying around soaking up the sun, not a care in the world...their only worry seemed to be that they had to share the rocks with the pelicans...thousands of them.
We paddled some more, and in the distance saw a couple of dolphins....only fleeting glimpses, but enough cause for excitement. Then, we came to the tiger sharks....so many of them! And so close to the sea shore....they were right there, swimming beneath our kayaks...slick creatures with tiger stripes on their bodies...supposedly harmless. I experienced a moment of panicky doubt...what if they were actually not THAT harm-less and what if the crashing waves overturned my kayak, and what if I suddenly found myself swimming amongst the sharkies...before my wild imagination ruined my confidence, I paddled furiously away from the spot into deeper and more safer (in my mind) waters...in any case...some other sightings included a huge brilliantly pink and red jelly fish (beautiful creature), and sea lions propped up on buoys in the middle of the ocean, taking a break from swimming around. And of course, we were sharing the ocean with human swimmers who seemed to be swimming miles and miles in deep sea. Admirable stamina.
All in all, a great trip, a dose of blue water, warm sands and a sun-drenched kayaking stint testament to the famous Southern California experience! Comes highly recommended by this fan of the ocean.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
The Tale of The Orange Thief
The still air, the quiet of the surrounding wilderness and the tangy scent of oranges that tantalized the senses were all deceptive decoys in the drama that was about to unfold....
The Place: Santiago Oaks Regional Park, Orange (get it?) County...
The Time: Mid-afternoon...on a "normal" December day...
The Crime: ....Grand Theft...giving the Law the Slip...
The Climax: The perp (hero?) takes a quick stealthy look around to see if anyone is watching, and speedily but deftly lunges for the juiciest (although not largest) orange hanging on the tree....the perp turns around....orange in hand....runs towards the car.....but wait...a fence separates him and the car(where his accomplice waits with baited breath...will he? wont he? will he....)....but no problemo....our muscular, athletic and ever-agile hero leaps high into the air....leg 'one' clears the top of the fence with insulting ease....leg 'two'...well, leg 'two' almost makes it....the heel catches the end of the fence....but at the precise instant, the Gods are smiling on the hero...and he clears the fence and...(clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)....
Ok, back up, back up, back up.....where were we? Oh, yes....it all started one day in December when two people....we'll name them Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-Dee...no, I'm just kidding.....ok, we'll name them Drake and Duck.....allright, allright.....we'll name them G and P (the exact reason for this is beyond the scope of this story)....anyway, so G and P decide not to waste a really lovely afternoon and head for the hills, with the aid of a hiker's guide-book....
They arrive at Santiago Oaks Regional Park, and discover that it is virtually uninhabited....not a soul around, or almost...(the reader is asked, at this point, to make a mental note of this piece of information as the striking irony of it will be revealed towards the end of the tale)...well, both G and P not being one of those we-like-crowds-baby kind of people are quite at ease with this situation, and park the automobile and get out to discover very serene surroundings....a really well maintained and beautifully kept park....plenty of flora...including very pretty flowering and non-flowering trees, and big trees and small trees...and tall trees and short trees..and....ah-em...orange trees...thats right....around the car park area was a fenced off region that housed scores of orange trees....and whats more, these trees had tonnes and tonnes and tonnes of brightly colored (orange) oranges hanging on them....
To continue the saga….G and P both feel that it would be nice to have an orange…after all, they were SO within reach….but suddenly, they spot a prominent sign that says “Picking of oranges NOT allowed”….okay, no problem, we are after all law-abiding citizens, and we do not indulge in that sort of behavior….so off go G and P on the hike….
Hikety hike, hikety hike…..climb up, climb down…walk, run, huff and puff…..a pretty neat work out….feels really good….
Back to the parking area a couple of hours later…..almost in the automobile….but wait….P’s eye catches the orange orchard….sweat dripping from face, throat parched from thirst….and P gives G the look…..BOY…..wont an orange…a juicy orange feel really really good right now?? Ok, so P convinces G to take the plunge, cross the fence and pick an orange…G agrees….after all, the place is deserted, and what harm can one little orange really do…..?? So G proceeds calmly towards the orange tree, and is all set to climb the fence…..suddenly there is a frantic shout from P….”Come back! Come back! The Park ranger is here! The park ranger is here! Come BACK!”….panic, desperation, and terror in his voice, P is racing back towards the car…..G looks back at him, and sees the sheer terror written all over his face….she looks beyond him…sure enough a pick up is driving up the parkway….and sure enough it was the park ranger…..so G bends down and pretends to be tying her shoe laces….uh-huh…not stealing oranges, but tying shoe-laces….extremely innocent…..nothing to worry about…..
Park-ranger drives on towards the building…..barely giving G and P a glance…see, nothing to worry about????…anyway, G decides she’s had enough of this game and its time to go home….and gets into the automobile…..where’s P….ok, folks, guess what? P is now suddenly charged with courage and determination…..defiant in the wake of authority, P has decided to do the unthinkable, the unimaginable, the unheard of…..steal an orange from the orange tree.
G is skeptical, she doesn’t think that P has it in him…..she’d much rather get into the car and get out of there and go on home…but no, siree, no…..P’s mind is made up….he is getting that orange, if it’s the darned last thing he ever does!!!
So, we’re back where we started…. The perp (hero?) takes a quick stealthy look around to see if anyone is watching, and speedily but deftly lunges for the juiciest (although not largest) orange hanging on the tree....the perp turns around....orange in hand....runs towards the car.....but wait...a fence separates him and the car(where his accomplice waits with baited breath...will he? wont he? will he....)....but no problemo....our muscular, athletic and ever-agile hero leaps high into the air....leg 'one' clears the top of the fence with insulting ease....leg 'two'...well, leg 'two' almost makes it....the heel catches the end of the fence....but at the precise instant, the Gods are smiling on the hero...and he clears the fence and...(clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)....
BUT WAIT….suddenly, we hear another engine revving up…and what do we see? The park ranger has reversed the truck and is coming towards us….that’s it, P needs no telling. Fear is written loud and clear in every pore of his being….he starts the car and skids into drive….and ZOOMS out of there….looking fervently into the rearview mirror…is the park ranger following him..?? He steps on the gas….faster and faster….the car zips out of the park, obviously violating the speed limit, onto the road back home…..P relaxes only when he is sure that nobody is following him, nobody is going to stop him, charge him with grand theft, and send him to prison…..
P looks at G with a sheepish grin. G is dying of laughter…and in her hand is the spoils of P’s brave endeavor….a single out of shape, bruised, not-so-orange orange….and G laughed all the way back home….!
Based on a true incident....
The Place: Santiago Oaks Regional Park, Orange (get it?) County...
The Time: Mid-afternoon...on a "normal" December day...
The Crime: ....Grand Theft...giving the Law the Slip...
The Climax: The perp (hero?) takes a quick stealthy look around to see if anyone is watching, and speedily but deftly lunges for the juiciest (although not largest) orange hanging on the tree....the perp turns around....orange in hand....runs towards the car.....but wait...a fence separates him and the car(where his accomplice waits with baited breath...will he? wont he? will he....)....but no problemo....our muscular, athletic and ever-agile hero leaps high into the air....leg 'one' clears the top of the fence with insulting ease....leg 'two'...well, leg 'two' almost makes it....the heel catches the end of the fence....but at the precise instant, the Gods are smiling on the hero...and he clears the fence and...(clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)....
Ok, back up, back up, back up.....where were we? Oh, yes....it all started one day in December when two people....we'll name them Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-Dee...no, I'm just kidding.....ok, we'll name them Drake and Duck.....allright, allright.....we'll name them G and P (the exact reason for this is beyond the scope of this story)....anyway, so G and P decide not to waste a really lovely afternoon and head for the hills, with the aid of a hiker's guide-book....
They arrive at Santiago Oaks Regional Park, and discover that it is virtually uninhabited....not a soul around, or almost...(the reader is asked, at this point, to make a mental note of this piece of information as the striking irony of it will be revealed towards the end of the tale)...well, both G and P not being one of those we-like-crowds-baby kind of people are quite at ease with this situation, and park the automobile and get out to discover very serene surroundings....a really well maintained and beautifully kept park....plenty of flora...including very pretty flowering and non-flowering trees, and big trees and small trees...and tall trees and short trees..and....ah-em...orange trees...thats right....around the car park area was a fenced off region that housed scores of orange trees....and whats more, these trees had tonnes and tonnes and tonnes of brightly colored (orange) oranges hanging on them....
To continue the saga….G and P both feel that it would be nice to have an orange…after all, they were SO within reach….but suddenly, they spot a prominent sign that says “Picking of oranges NOT allowed”….okay, no problem, we are after all law-abiding citizens, and we do not indulge in that sort of behavior….so off go G and P on the hike….
Hikety hike, hikety hike…..climb up, climb down…walk, run, huff and puff…..a pretty neat work out….feels really good….
Back to the parking area a couple of hours later…..almost in the automobile….but wait….P’s eye catches the orange orchard….sweat dripping from face, throat parched from thirst….and P gives G the look…..BOY…..wont an orange…a juicy orange feel really really good right now?? Ok, so P convinces G to take the plunge, cross the fence and pick an orange…G agrees….after all, the place is deserted, and what harm can one little orange really do…..?? So G proceeds calmly towards the orange tree, and is all set to climb the fence…..suddenly there is a frantic shout from P….”Come back! Come back! The Park ranger is here! The park ranger is here! Come BACK!”….panic, desperation, and terror in his voice, P is racing back towards the car…..G looks back at him, and sees the sheer terror written all over his face….she looks beyond him…sure enough a pick up is driving up the parkway….and sure enough it was the park ranger…..so G bends down and pretends to be tying her shoe laces….uh-huh…not stealing oranges, but tying shoe-laces….extremely innocent…..nothing to worry about…..
Park-ranger drives on towards the building…..barely giving G and P a glance…see, nothing to worry about????…anyway, G decides she’s had enough of this game and its time to go home….and gets into the automobile…..where’s P….ok, folks, guess what? P is now suddenly charged with courage and determination…..defiant in the wake of authority, P has decided to do the unthinkable, the unimaginable, the unheard of…..steal an orange from the orange tree.
G is skeptical, she doesn’t think that P has it in him…..she’d much rather get into the car and get out of there and go on home…but no, siree, no…..P’s mind is made up….he is getting that orange, if it’s the darned last thing he ever does!!!
So, we’re back where we started…. The perp (hero?) takes a quick stealthy look around to see if anyone is watching, and speedily but deftly lunges for the juiciest (although not largest) orange hanging on the tree....the perp turns around....orange in hand....runs towards the car.....but wait...a fence separates him and the car(where his accomplice waits with baited breath...will he? wont he? will he....)....but no problemo....our muscular, athletic and ever-agile hero leaps high into the air....leg 'one' clears the top of the fence with insulting ease....leg 'two'...well, leg 'two' almost makes it....the heel catches the end of the fence....but at the precise instant, the Gods are smiling on the hero...and he clears the fence and...(clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)....
BUT WAIT….suddenly, we hear another engine revving up…and what do we see? The park ranger has reversed the truck and is coming towards us….that’s it, P needs no telling. Fear is written loud and clear in every pore of his being….he starts the car and skids into drive….and ZOOMS out of there….looking fervently into the rearview mirror…is the park ranger following him..?? He steps on the gas….faster and faster….the car zips out of the park, obviously violating the speed limit, onto the road back home…..P relaxes only when he is sure that nobody is following him, nobody is going to stop him, charge him with grand theft, and send him to prison…..
P looks at G with a sheepish grin. G is dying of laughter…and in her hand is the spoils of P’s brave endeavor….a single out of shape, bruised, not-so-orange orange….and G laughed all the way back home….!
Based on a true incident....
Monday, July 11, 2005
Row, Row, Row the Raft
As we drove up the mountains, we saw the Kern River, now a gushing, rushing, raging river crashing down over the rocks, now a calmer, gentler bubbling brook, sparkling in the early morning sun...looking so fresh, so crisp, so beautiful...
Along the way we saw people camping alongside the river, trying to get away from it all, trying to connect with this gorgeous manifestation of Nature itself....much as ourselves, as we made the three hour journey to partake in the adventure of-white water rafting.
Finally, we arrived at Lake Isabella, a beautiful, vast expanse of blue, blue water, looking all the more gorgeous in the early morning sun. We continued to drive towards the point where we were to begin the trip down the river Kern.
When we signed in, got our gear (life jacket, paddle and pep talk by the guide), we were more than ready to start! Now - a little background on our co-rafters: One big gang, consisting of two families were to raft with us. We had to be divided into two rafts and within 3 seconds, the sub-groups were decided...our raft had the both of us, and all the men, and the boys...and the other raft...well, the other raft had the-girls...there was NO WAY the BOYS wanted to go rafting with the GIRLS....!!!
So, off we were to a roaring start.....we made the trip downstream, over the rapids, the view along the way absolutely breath-taking, the day absolutely perfect...we followed the guide's calls...we paddled forward, we paddled backward, we plowed through the rapids, bouncing, splashing, and dancing on the white, white water.....what fun!!!!!!
And then......then we did the "Powerhouse"....a stretch of steep river descent.....claimed to be the steepest river descent in the country....30 feet of sheer rapids...could we do it? Were we upto it? Well....we were about to find out...
Off we started...hearts pounding, paddles paddling...and then, we came to the rapids...
Of course, I fell into the river in the rapids...I had to....(Was I the Rat that deserted the sinking ship? Sinking Raft?) and my knight in shining armor almost fell trying to rescue me....and in the process, the raft lost balance and our GUIDE fell in the river (not a good sign).....then another chap fell, and the guide's paddle hit him on the nose....in the mean time I am desperately trying to get back into the raft.....someone else on the raft lost a sandal, someone else lost a paddle...my "knight" desperately trying to stay ON the raft...lots of screaming..."I LOST MY SANDAL"......"I LOST MY PADDLE!!!!"......"HELP!!!"......and in the general pandemonium that ensued...the guide-less raft (remember the guide is in the river) drifted towards the edge of the river where the trees with their overhanging branches are....and suddenly (by this time all of the jantha has managed to scramble back on the raft) we are faced by scores and scores of tree branches....so again, more screaming "DUCK!!"...."DUCK!"...."DUCK!"..........finally, we manage to steer the raft away from the branches....and manage the rest of the rapids.....float downstream and collect the sandal and the paddle........WHAT FUN!!!
And then we learnt that the GIRLS' raft had experienced no difficulty whatso-ever, they had managed a professional trip down the rapids...but somehow... I think that we had had more fun...
Three cheers to the Kern River and my first white-water-rafting experience!!
Along the way we saw people camping alongside the river, trying to get away from it all, trying to connect with this gorgeous manifestation of Nature itself....much as ourselves, as we made the three hour journey to partake in the adventure of-white water rafting.
Finally, we arrived at Lake Isabella, a beautiful, vast expanse of blue, blue water, looking all the more gorgeous in the early morning sun. We continued to drive towards the point where we were to begin the trip down the river Kern.
When we signed in, got our gear (life jacket, paddle and pep talk by the guide), we were more than ready to start! Now - a little background on our co-rafters: One big gang, consisting of two families were to raft with us. We had to be divided into two rafts and within 3 seconds, the sub-groups were decided...our raft had the both of us, and all the men, and the boys...and the other raft...well, the other raft had the-girls...there was NO WAY the BOYS wanted to go rafting with the GIRLS....!!!
So, off we were to a roaring start.....we made the trip downstream, over the rapids, the view along the way absolutely breath-taking, the day absolutely perfect...we followed the guide's calls...we paddled forward, we paddled backward, we plowed through the rapids, bouncing, splashing, and dancing on the white, white water.....what fun!!!!!!
And then......then we did the "Powerhouse"....a stretch of steep river descent.....claimed to be the steepest river descent in the country....30 feet of sheer rapids...could we do it? Were we upto it? Well....we were about to find out...
Off we started...hearts pounding, paddles paddling...and then, we came to the rapids...
Of course, I fell into the river in the rapids...I had to....(Was I the Rat that deserted the sinking ship? Sinking Raft?) and my knight in shining armor almost fell trying to rescue me....and in the process, the raft lost balance and our GUIDE fell in the river (not a good sign).....then another chap fell, and the guide's paddle hit him on the nose....in the mean time I am desperately trying to get back into the raft.....someone else on the raft lost a sandal, someone else lost a paddle...my "knight" desperately trying to stay ON the raft...lots of screaming..."I LOST MY SANDAL"......"I LOST MY PADDLE!!!!"......"HELP!!!"......and in the general pandemonium that ensued...the guide-less raft (remember the guide is in the river) drifted towards the edge of the river where the trees with their overhanging branches are....and suddenly (by this time all of the jantha has managed to scramble back on the raft) we are faced by scores and scores of tree branches....so again, more screaming "DUCK!!"...."DUCK!"...."DUCK!"..........finally, we manage to steer the raft away from the branches....and manage the rest of the rapids.....float downstream and collect the sandal and the paddle........WHAT FUN!!!
And then we learnt that the GIRLS' raft had experienced no difficulty whatso-ever, they had managed a professional trip down the rapids...but somehow... I think that we had had more fun...
Three cheers to the Kern River and my first white-water-rafting experience!!
Friday, July 01, 2005
The Rat's opening statements
Pause the race, this rat needs to smell the flowers...
I hate rats....absolutely detest, loathe and abhor them...some say it is an irrational fear that I harbor (refer upcoming blog on an incident from my kiddy days), but I dont really care. The point is that I hate them. However, I sure as heck feel like a rat in a rat race these days...I refer with a despondent shake of my head to 'the amazing race' that life seems to perpetually be....and how rat-like we all have become...what's with us anyway? My recent past has been super busy the last couple of years with few moments to spare, and now that I AM free, I feel restless, anxious to "get on" with it...I feel that I should be stepping on the next stepping-stone, aiming for the next target, reaching towards the next goal, etc, etc, etc...how did we become such expert rats racing away towards that unknown, unseen finish line...that pot of gold at the end of the road (rainbow?)....running, running...always running...pausing but briefly to catch our breath and a quick sip of Gatorade or Glucon-C/D ....then running, running again...all of us, rats (ugly repuslive creatures)...running the rat race...
I'm tired of being a RAT, I tell you. And that's why I have decided to stop running the race for a moment. There are things in life to be done, methinks. Like watching a sunset, walking a dog, climbing a mountain, reading a good book and then THINKING about it...and smelling the flowers....yes, smelling the beautiful roses, and jasmine, and daisies, and rajanigandha...smelling the flowers (I'm a BIG fan of flowers, BTW) and taking a moment from our oh-so-busy schedules to revel in that which is bigger and more powerful and more inexplicable than all of us rats put together...
I hate rats....absolutely detest, loathe and abhor them...some say it is an irrational fear that I harbor (refer upcoming blog on an incident from my kiddy days), but I dont really care. The point is that I hate them. However, I sure as heck feel like a rat in a rat race these days...I refer with a despondent shake of my head to 'the amazing race' that life seems to perpetually be....and how rat-like we all have become...what's with us anyway? My recent past has been super busy the last couple of years with few moments to spare, and now that I AM free, I feel restless, anxious to "get on" with it...I feel that I should be stepping on the next stepping-stone, aiming for the next target, reaching towards the next goal, etc, etc, etc...how did we become such expert rats racing away towards that unknown, unseen finish line...that pot of gold at the end of the road (rainbow?)....running, running...always running...pausing but briefly to catch our breath and a quick sip of Gatorade or Glucon-C/D ....then running, running again...all of us, rats (ugly repuslive creatures)...running the rat race...
I'm tired of being a RAT, I tell you. And that's why I have decided to stop running the race for a moment. There are things in life to be done, methinks. Like watching a sunset, walking a dog, climbing a mountain, reading a good book and then THINKING about it...and smelling the flowers....yes, smelling the beautiful roses, and jasmine, and daisies, and rajanigandha...smelling the flowers (I'm a BIG fan of flowers, BTW) and taking a moment from our oh-so-busy schedules to revel in that which is bigger and more powerful and more inexplicable than all of us rats put together...
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