Soliloquy reconstructed
Hamlet's original : To be or not to be : that is the question.
Extrapolating that to the alphabet,
Eyes wide shut : To C or not to C
Gravity's Dilemma : To G or not to G
Bladder's Plight : To P or not to P
Golfer's Quandary : To T or not to T
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Perspective
Catching the imagination
A thirty-five year old man was running in the park. That in itself should hardly matter except that it was neither early morning to dismiss it as a exercise routine, nor was it to prevent an emergency. As the motley group of people surrounding him looked on, he picked pace as if determined to reach his destination.
The person closest to him was a 20 year lad who seemed to be standing still while egging him. But the man had his peripheral vision fixed on another older man standing farther away. As if his only aim was to impress the geriatric through sheer effort, the man put on a burst of speed.
To add to the element of bewilderment, the sprinter's face was turned skywards and he had his hands in an odd posture as if seeking alms. Presently he came to a halt and seemed to be awaiting the object that had his undivided attention for so long. Soon enough it landed with a thud in his open palms even as he tumbled across the grass.
As all the others piled on him in jubilation and cheered his effort, the fielder looked across. The umpire had his right hand up in the air with the index finger outstretched, merely confirming what everyone around knew, that the batsman was caught out.
A thirty-five year old man was running in the park. That in itself should hardly matter except that it was neither early morning to dismiss it as a exercise routine, nor was it to prevent an emergency. As the motley group of people surrounding him looked on, he picked pace as if determined to reach his destination.
The person closest to him was a 20 year lad who seemed to be standing still while egging him. But the man had his peripheral vision fixed on another older man standing farther away. As if his only aim was to impress the geriatric through sheer effort, the man put on a burst of speed.
To add to the element of bewilderment, the sprinter's face was turned skywards and he had his hands in an odd posture as if seeking alms. Presently he came to a halt and seemed to be awaiting the object that had his undivided attention for so long. Soon enough it landed with a thud in his open palms even as he tumbled across the grass.
As all the others piled on him in jubilation and cheered his effort, the fielder looked across. The umpire had his right hand up in the air with the index finger outstretched, merely confirming what everyone around knew, that the batsman was caught out.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Combating a holiday
Prologue
A vacation, as per the lexicon is a leisure time away from work devoted to pleasure and rest. I sort of experienced about two-thirds of that definition recently. I can vouch for not being in office and having idyllic experiences, but can't come around to admit feeling rested. But then if you travel to a new country for less than a week, you tend to cram as much activity as you can into your days and nights.
This is a blow by blow recount of such a frenzied week we spent in Thailand during our second anniversary. The preparations were no different to a regular trip, except for the visa and foreign exchange. We decided that money should not be object on this trip as the main aim was to have a lot of fun.We had no clue what to do other than the information gathered from the internet. Nevertheless we diligently stuck to the plan Amudha had drawn after consulting numerous websites.
March forth
Well it was March 6th to be precise when we packed our bags and left for Bombay. The onward journey was uneventful and we were dropped near the airport 4 hours ahead of the departure time. In one of those brain dead moments, we decided to walk rather than take a rick or taxi because a) we had plenty of time to kill b) we thought the distance from the bus stop to the airport was no more than 2 kms. So after a delicious dinner, we started our march. Some 45 humid minutes later we arrived at the airport all sweaty and tired.
The formalities took us another hour and by the time we boarded the plane we had recovered sufficiently from our earlier misadventure to be excited again. The sight of grandmas aboard the plane masquerading as airhostesses was enough to put us to an early sleep. We were woken up by the landing in Bangkok and having duly set our watches ahead by an hour and half, we disembarked.
Suvarnabhumi was a typical international airport and we had as such no problems with either the immigration or baggage claim. Unlike some of our local airports, there were no swarming taxi drivers readying to fleece us. In any case we had read about the bus service available in the airport and headed there straight. Here we had a stroke of luck in catching the first bus of the day minutes before its departure to Pattaya.We had originally planned to take the second one two hours later.
First base
The conductor on the bus was a harbinger for our woes over the next few days. When she finished her announcement we were surprised to know that it was in English. However the delicious fruit bun offered for free on the bus served as a compensation. A two hour ride on a expressway not unlike the one between Pune and Bombay brought us to Pattaya. The driver was no improvement over the conductor with his English and our question as to where to alight was lost in translation. As a result we jumped out of the bus in the wrong part of the town.
Having learnt our lesson about walking with our luggage in humid cities, we decided to do the next best thing - hire a taxi. We were approached by a friendly man who inquired if we wanted to ride his bike. We didn't get what he meant until a day later when we saw bikes being used as taxies.We thanked him for his offer and instead looked for an alternate. That's when we discovered the tuk tuk. Its cheaper than a car and can accommodate far more people, but this time we rode alone. 150 Baht looked a reasonable rate after it dropped us at our hotel.
Reaching early gave us time to rest awhile and have a leisurely bath.We availed the hotel's option of booking on the local tours from their reception which included pick up and drop. After a meal of soup, mashed potatoes and a sprite,we settled in the bus to head for our first destination - the Nong Nooch village.
Pots & Acts
Nong Nooch was a curious collection of a pottery art, live animals, larger than life size insect statues ! The village was known for its flora and there were tons of different gardens.Most of the fauna on display was molded in clay or cut out of grass. The only exception were the tigers, leopard, elephants and orangutans tethered to their posts. For a nominal fee people could hold, cuddle and pose for photographs with them. I somehow found their plight not to mention the stench unbearable and quickly moved away.
Our next stop was a makeshift tent that hosted the amazing Thai cultural show. The backdrops and performances changed in front of our own eyes so fast that we scarcely had time to appreciate one act before the next swept us. The music was intriguing and the dance had a strange grace to it. They even showcased a war with live elephants before closing with a contrived game of their national sport, muay thai - a variation of boxing.We hustled to see the elephant show which was unremarkable, their feats like painting notwithstanding.
Come evening, we supped at an Indian restaurant gorging on Alu paratha and fried rice. After a few stolen moments of rest we set out to see the world famous Alcazar cabaret show. The way it started, I thought it was no more than the cultural show I'd seen earlier in the day. The scale was understandably richer and the ambience more relaxing.Again the performances were superlative. I found it extremely funny to see a Russian mouthing bhumburo during her act.That bit was nice with dances for songs from most asian countries. We were back in the hotel after 2 solid hours of entertainment.
The Marooning
On one of our earlier trips to Goa, we were quickly tired of the time we spent at beaches. Neither of us know how to swim so our watersports are limited to either paddling or parasailing when we are not dabbling waist deep in water. We thought we had that angle carefully covered when we chose to venture into the coral island next morning. The websites and brochures promised a glass bottomed boat ride through which we could see actual coral reefs and go scuba diving. Our initial enthusiasm dipped as we leaped into the boat ... which had a solid opaque bottom.
Consoling ourselves that greater adventures awaited us, we settled in, enjoying a bobbing ride in the choppy sea. The island was very clean with white sand and not a large crowd. A lot of tourists were already tanning and in comparison to their clothes or lack thereof, I felt like I was going to office. My shorts and t-shirt were looking like a black tie affair and Amudha was looking like she had come to participate in Pattaya open tennis.
Round two of the disappointment started when we discovered that scuba diving and a walk through the corals were so exorbitantly priced that our original pact about money no object went out of the oriel. Round three was the knock out punch when we tried to go back to the city to explore other parts. They meant it when they said it was coral island. Chartering a boat for just two of us was costing as much as our plane ticket ! We hired two beach chairs and spent close to 5 hours watching others go on banana rides. Amudha dozed off for a while and I managed to complete Archer's new novel Paths of Glory.
Mercifully the lunch was very good and was one of the best we had during the entire stay. In a misguided notion of ordering an exotic drink Amudha opted for dragon-fruit shake while I stuck to the more conventional chocolate version. The experiment failed and her drink tasted like plain water in which leafy vegetables were washed. After the meal we returned to our chairs and resumed our stupor. Unsurprisingly we were the first ones to get into the return boat.
The Escape
During the interminable hours we spent fretting while supposedly relaxing at the beach, we were worried about missing fun elsewhere. To keep the morale up, we told ourselves that what we were doing was a way of enjoying our holiday and vacation didn't just mean zipping around. The delusion worked for about 5 seconds. The inner thoughts were similar - here we are stuck in a godforsaken island while we could have been in Ripley's believe it or not musem or visiting the miniature versions of world monuments in Mini Siam.
When the blessed escape did materialize, we did the most intelligent thing. As soon as we reached the hotel, we ditched our bags and hired a two wheeler. Until that moment we didn't realize really how small a place Pattaya was. It took us less than 10 minutes to figure out all the routes from hotel to the museum to Mini Siam to walking plaza and back. We zoomed off first to Mini Siam lest it closed down for the day.
Our fears were unfounded and unknowingly we chose a good time to visit it. While the Eiffel tower, London bridge et al looked fetching in twilight, they looked positively cool when lit as dusk set in. From there we went straight to Ripley's museum in garden plaza. After spending another hour looking at the motley group of curios, optical illusions and life size models, we shopped in a souvenir shop and bought a t-shirt.
The walking street turned out to be a good place to roam around until we realized that it is meant for those who are promiscuous. Every bar was overflowing with signs - some subtle and others more in-your-face, with the same message. Feeling sorry for the girls more than repugnance at the brazenness, we decided to skip it and went in search of food. After another excellent meal of roti sabji, we retired to our hotel.
A vacation, as per the lexicon is a leisure time away from work devoted to pleasure and rest. I sort of experienced about two-thirds of that definition recently. I can vouch for not being in office and having idyllic experiences, but can't come around to admit feeling rested. But then if you travel to a new country for less than a week, you tend to cram as much activity as you can into your days and nights.
This is a blow by blow recount of such a frenzied week we spent in Thailand during our second anniversary. The preparations were no different to a regular trip, except for the visa and foreign exchange. We decided that money should not be object on this trip as the main aim was to have a lot of fun.We had no clue what to do other than the information gathered from the internet. Nevertheless we diligently stuck to the plan Amudha had drawn after consulting numerous websites.
March forth
Well it was March 6th to be precise when we packed our bags and left for Bombay. The onward journey was uneventful and we were dropped near the airport 4 hours ahead of the departure time. In one of those brain dead moments, we decided to walk rather than take a rick or taxi because a) we had plenty of time to kill b) we thought the distance from the bus stop to the airport was no more than 2 kms. So after a delicious dinner, we started our march. Some 45 humid minutes later we arrived at the airport all sweaty and tired.
The formalities took us another hour and by the time we boarded the plane we had recovered sufficiently from our earlier misadventure to be excited again. The sight of grandmas aboard the plane masquerading as airhostesses was enough to put us to an early sleep. We were woken up by the landing in Bangkok and having duly set our watches ahead by an hour and half, we disembarked.
Suvarnabhumi was a typical international airport and we had as such no problems with either the immigration or baggage claim. Unlike some of our local airports, there were no swarming taxi drivers readying to fleece us. In any case we had read about the bus service available in the airport and headed there straight. Here we had a stroke of luck in catching the first bus of the day minutes before its departure to Pattaya.We had originally planned to take the second one two hours later.
First base
The conductor on the bus was a harbinger for our woes over the next few days. When she finished her announcement we were surprised to know that it was in English. However the delicious fruit bun offered for free on the bus served as a compensation. A two hour ride on a expressway not unlike the one between Pune and Bombay brought us to Pattaya. The driver was no improvement over the conductor with his English and our question as to where to alight was lost in translation. As a result we jumped out of the bus in the wrong part of the town.
Having learnt our lesson about walking with our luggage in humid cities, we decided to do the next best thing - hire a taxi. We were approached by a friendly man who inquired if we wanted to ride his bike. We didn't get what he meant until a day later when we saw bikes being used as taxies.We thanked him for his offer and instead looked for an alternate. That's when we discovered the tuk tuk. Its cheaper than a car and can accommodate far more people, but this time we rode alone. 150 Baht looked a reasonable rate after it dropped us at our hotel.
Reaching early gave us time to rest awhile and have a leisurely bath.We availed the hotel's option of booking on the local tours from their reception which included pick up and drop. After a meal of soup, mashed potatoes and a sprite,we settled in the bus to head for our first destination - the Nong Nooch village.
Pots & Acts
Nong Nooch was a curious collection of a pottery art, live animals, larger than life size insect statues ! The village was known for its flora and there were tons of different gardens.Most of the fauna on display was molded in clay or cut out of grass. The only exception were the tigers, leopard, elephants and orangutans tethered to their posts. For a nominal fee people could hold, cuddle and pose for photographs with them. I somehow found their plight not to mention the stench unbearable and quickly moved away.
Our next stop was a makeshift tent that hosted the amazing Thai cultural show. The backdrops and performances changed in front of our own eyes so fast that we scarcely had time to appreciate one act before the next swept us. The music was intriguing and the dance had a strange grace to it. They even showcased a war with live elephants before closing with a contrived game of their national sport, muay thai - a variation of boxing.We hustled to see the elephant show which was unremarkable, their feats like painting notwithstanding.
Come evening, we supped at an Indian restaurant gorging on Alu paratha and fried rice. After a few stolen moments of rest we set out to see the world famous Alcazar cabaret show. The way it started, I thought it was no more than the cultural show I'd seen earlier in the day. The scale was understandably richer and the ambience more relaxing.Again the performances were superlative. I found it extremely funny to see a Russian mouthing bhumburo during her act.That bit was nice with dances for songs from most asian countries. We were back in the hotel after 2 solid hours of entertainment.
The Marooning
On one of our earlier trips to Goa, we were quickly tired of the time we spent at beaches. Neither of us know how to swim so our watersports are limited to either paddling or parasailing when we are not dabbling waist deep in water. We thought we had that angle carefully covered when we chose to venture into the coral island next morning. The websites and brochures promised a glass bottomed boat ride through which we could see actual coral reefs and go scuba diving. Our initial enthusiasm dipped as we leaped into the boat ... which had a solid opaque bottom.
Consoling ourselves that greater adventures awaited us, we settled in, enjoying a bobbing ride in the choppy sea. The island was very clean with white sand and not a large crowd. A lot of tourists were already tanning and in comparison to their clothes or lack thereof, I felt like I was going to office. My shorts and t-shirt were looking like a black tie affair and Amudha was looking like she had come to participate in Pattaya open tennis.
Round two of the disappointment started when we discovered that scuba diving and a walk through the corals were so exorbitantly priced that our original pact about money no object went out of the oriel. Round three was the knock out punch when we tried to go back to the city to explore other parts. They meant it when they said it was coral island. Chartering a boat for just two of us was costing as much as our plane ticket ! We hired two beach chairs and spent close to 5 hours watching others go on banana rides. Amudha dozed off for a while and I managed to complete Archer's new novel Paths of Glory.
Mercifully the lunch was very good and was one of the best we had during the entire stay. In a misguided notion of ordering an exotic drink Amudha opted for dragon-fruit shake while I stuck to the more conventional chocolate version. The experiment failed and her drink tasted like plain water in which leafy vegetables were washed. After the meal we returned to our chairs and resumed our stupor. Unsurprisingly we were the first ones to get into the return boat.
The Escape
During the interminable hours we spent fretting while supposedly relaxing at the beach, we were worried about missing fun elsewhere. To keep the morale up, we told ourselves that what we were doing was a way of enjoying our holiday and vacation didn't just mean zipping around. The delusion worked for about 5 seconds. The inner thoughts were similar - here we are stuck in a godforsaken island while we could have been in Ripley's believe it or not musem or visiting the miniature versions of world monuments in Mini Siam.
When the blessed escape did materialize, we did the most intelligent thing. As soon as we reached the hotel, we ditched our bags and hired a two wheeler. Until that moment we didn't realize really how small a place Pattaya was. It took us less than 10 minutes to figure out all the routes from hotel to the museum to Mini Siam to walking plaza and back. We zoomed off first to Mini Siam lest it closed down for the day.
Our fears were unfounded and unknowingly we chose a good time to visit it. While the Eiffel tower, London bridge et al looked fetching in twilight, they looked positively cool when lit as dusk set in. From there we went straight to Ripley's museum in garden plaza. After spending another hour looking at the motley group of curios, optical illusions and life size models, we shopped in a souvenir shop and bought a t-shirt.
The walking street turned out to be a good place to roam around until we realized that it is meant for those who are promiscuous. Every bar was overflowing with signs - some subtle and others more in-your-face, with the same message. Feeling sorry for the girls more than repugnance at the brazenness, we decided to skip it and went in search of food. After another excellent meal of roti sabji, we retired to our hotel.
* * * *
In retrospect, the only lasting memories of Pattaya are three - massage parlors and bike rental shops by the dozen, extremely beautiful girls doing every chore in sight while men seem to do nothing other than drive vehicles, the completely inexplicabe lack of English skills. For a tourist town, its remarkable how everyone - locals and visitors get by playing dumb charades.* * * *
Capital Punishment
The next morning we were to leave early for Bangkok in order to keep the rest of our scheduled plans. Unfortunately we overslept and couldn't make up for the lost time. However, we felt justifiably proud of taking the sky train to reach our hotel without getting duped by taxi drivers. By the time we finished checking-in, it was too late to stick to the first half of our itinerary. We missed seeing the Golden and Emerald Buddha temples.Not a big loss, but an annoying thing from plan execution perspective.
Another smart thing we did was not to book any local tours from the hotel. After a lunch of bread and omelet, we found a travel shop that offered the same tours at a considerably cheaper price. With a map in hand, we were contemplating hiring a tuk tuk to visit the temples till a good samaritan turned up. He was extremely nice and patient telling us what all to do and how much to pay for each ride. Following his suggestion we reluctantly forgot the temples and instead headed to a noted mall.
The sky train dropped us near Siam station from where the MBK mall was walking distance. It was 5 storeys tall and full of shops selling everything under the sun. Notably every second shop is a replica watch seller. One of our friends wanted us to get him a Mont Blanc and to be sure he had printed the model number and given it to us. We were laughed out of the shop when we showed them that. Deciding not to waste any more time for we had no inclination or intention of buying anything for ourselves, we went in search of food.
Dinner consisted of yummy masala dosa and sambar rice, thanks to another India restaurant we discovered in the afternoon. Our hotel room was tastefully done and Amudha duly clicked lot of snaps wanting to reuse some of the ideas.The first impressions of Bangkok weren't great. It was just like any other concrete jungle and after Pattaya came as a bit of a dampener.
Bootcamp & Court-Martial
Breakfast the next day was much better with toast, fruits, a bowl of cereal and juice. We had geared up for a hectic day at a natural jungle. With a guide in tow, we headed to the safari world & marine park on the outskirts of Bangkok. We spent an enjoyable morning driving through the wildlife sanctuary watching lions, tigers, bears, zebras, giraffes, deer in their natural habitat. Then there were trained animal and human shows including dolphins, sea lions, orangutans, cowboys, spies what not.
Lunch was an acutely embarassing affair. For the first time in our lives Amudha and I were disgusted of being Indians. Probably owing to prior experience, the organizers had a separate buffet counter only for Indians. It was so shambolic with people piling over as if they were starved prisoners allowed one last meal. There was no semblance of order, food was being spilt all over the place, people just barged in and out of the queue, they didn't even let the waiter refill the dishes. We were standing aside for close to 15 minutes in the hope that we might get a chance once the crowd thins. We even seriously contemplated going to the non-Indian counter and eating whatever was there - even if it was fish or meat or beef. Anything to distance ourselves from the chaotic counter.
We couldn't look our guide in the eye after the trauma of lunch and his being understanding about the whole thing didn't help either. Thankfully we put it behind us and went on a small lake cruise through the jungle. Even though the temparatures were soaring and we were soaked in our own sweat, time flew by. Amudha was more adventurous of the two of us and daringly fed birds and giraffees out of her hand. Unfortunately that audacity spread to her choice of drink (yet again) and she bought a bottle of green tea. We gagged on it and after one sip each threw it into the dustbin. It tasted like ummm...let's see there is no polite way to say it ...
Cruise Control
Having learnt nothing from our Pattaya trip, we continued to pack the day. Straight from the jungles we were transported to a river, this time for a dinner cruise. We reached very early and went around looking for any trinkets we could bring back to India. We ended up buying a magnet with the ubiquitous tuk tuk as a token. To banish the taste of the wretched green tea we even had an apple pie and orange soda.
As the check-in time approached, we weren't sure what to expect. I had no idea what a cruise like this would entail. Just that when we read on the website it sounded like a cool thing to do. We were probably the only couple who weren't dressed for the occasion. Covered in grime and sweat and wearing clothes that would have made a coal miner proud, we inspired no confidence in the steward who checked our tickets. The now familiar trin-trina-trin-trin chords of traditional Thai music and their dance welcomed us before the live music crew took over.
Even though we were dead clumsy at the table dropping forks and spilling drinks out of excitement, we managed to have a different experience. Food as usual was a struggle to identify edible items. The meal consisted of salad and then directly dessert for us. I never appreciated till then that the words cruise and crucifixion sound similar. If the liner were to go any slower, we would have gone backwards. But then, they meant cruise like how they meant island.
Rapidfire
The next morning was a mad scamper. We had reserved two seats on a trip to a floating market where the curiosity factor is built on the fact that vendors, sellers and wares all operate on boats while moving through the village. The market was 2 hours away from Bangkok and we had to get back in time to make it back to the airport. The trip on the boat was enjoyable and owing to depleted resources, we ended up buying nothing.
After feasting on fruits which incidentally saved us throughout the whole trip, we were taken for a humongous ride. For 1200 Bahts we could sit on an Elephant and ride through the village which the guide promised was a unique experience. It was a toss up for us between having the taxi fare to go to the airport and return to India or sit on an elephant that'll wade through the village. We settled for a can of sprite instead.
We met a couple of women from Switzerland while on the trip to the floating market. They were also in the same boat as us - literally and figuratively - with respect to finances, so we ended up trading life stories, email addresses and phone numbers while sipping our drinks.
Epilogue
The only question of interest at that point was if we would make it in time to the airport or not. In our greed to cram as many things as possible, we seriously underestimated how close we were cutting. Thanks to a taxi driver who probably understood our anxiety and the opportunity to make a quick buck, sped us in good time to Suvarnabhumi. Again the formalities didn't take long and we even had time to stuff ourselves in Burger King.
That's when the miracle happened. We were out of Bombay airport breezing through customs in 5 minutes, getting a pre-paid taxi and being on our way to the bus stand. As soon as we reached the stand, there was a bus waiting to leave which we got into. I don't remember how the 3 hour journey went for I fell asleep as soon as I bought the tickets. Alighting in the middle of the night and finding a rickshaw that didn't haggle and dropped us home in 10 minutes was a big big shock.
One of these days, I'll hopefully experience the last part of the dictionary's definition of vacation : ) and not this !
Capital Punishment
The next morning we were to leave early for Bangkok in order to keep the rest of our scheduled plans. Unfortunately we overslept and couldn't make up for the lost time. However, we felt justifiably proud of taking the sky train to reach our hotel without getting duped by taxi drivers. By the time we finished checking-in, it was too late to stick to the first half of our itinerary. We missed seeing the Golden and Emerald Buddha temples.Not a big loss, but an annoying thing from plan execution perspective.
Another smart thing we did was not to book any local tours from the hotel. After a lunch of bread and omelet, we found a travel shop that offered the same tours at a considerably cheaper price. With a map in hand, we were contemplating hiring a tuk tuk to visit the temples till a good samaritan turned up. He was extremely nice and patient telling us what all to do and how much to pay for each ride. Following his suggestion we reluctantly forgot the temples and instead headed to a noted mall.
The sky train dropped us near Siam station from where the MBK mall was walking distance. It was 5 storeys tall and full of shops selling everything under the sun. Notably every second shop is a replica watch seller. One of our friends wanted us to get him a Mont Blanc and to be sure he had printed the model number and given it to us. We were laughed out of the shop when we showed them that. Deciding not to waste any more time for we had no inclination or intention of buying anything for ourselves, we went in search of food.
Dinner consisted of yummy masala dosa and sambar rice, thanks to another India restaurant we discovered in the afternoon. Our hotel room was tastefully done and Amudha duly clicked lot of snaps wanting to reuse some of the ideas.The first impressions of Bangkok weren't great. It was just like any other concrete jungle and after Pattaya came as a bit of a dampener.
Bootcamp & Court-Martial
Breakfast the next day was much better with toast, fruits, a bowl of cereal and juice. We had geared up for a hectic day at a natural jungle. With a guide in tow, we headed to the safari world & marine park on the outskirts of Bangkok. We spent an enjoyable morning driving through the wildlife sanctuary watching lions, tigers, bears, zebras, giraffes, deer in their natural habitat. Then there were trained animal and human shows including dolphins, sea lions, orangutans, cowboys, spies what not.
Lunch was an acutely embarassing affair. For the first time in our lives Amudha and I were disgusted of being Indians. Probably owing to prior experience, the organizers had a separate buffet counter only for Indians. It was so shambolic with people piling over as if they were starved prisoners allowed one last meal. There was no semblance of order, food was being spilt all over the place, people just barged in and out of the queue, they didn't even let the waiter refill the dishes. We were standing aside for close to 15 minutes in the hope that we might get a chance once the crowd thins. We even seriously contemplated going to the non-Indian counter and eating whatever was there - even if it was fish or meat or beef. Anything to distance ourselves from the chaotic counter.
We couldn't look our guide in the eye after the trauma of lunch and his being understanding about the whole thing didn't help either. Thankfully we put it behind us and went on a small lake cruise through the jungle. Even though the temparatures were soaring and we were soaked in our own sweat, time flew by. Amudha was more adventurous of the two of us and daringly fed birds and giraffees out of her hand. Unfortunately that audacity spread to her choice of drink (yet again) and she bought a bottle of green tea. We gagged on it and after one sip each threw it into the dustbin. It tasted like ummm...let's see there is no polite way to say it ...
Cruise Control
Having learnt nothing from our Pattaya trip, we continued to pack the day. Straight from the jungles we were transported to a river, this time for a dinner cruise. We reached very early and went around looking for any trinkets we could bring back to India. We ended up buying a magnet with the ubiquitous tuk tuk as a token. To banish the taste of the wretched green tea we even had an apple pie and orange soda.
As the check-in time approached, we weren't sure what to expect. I had no idea what a cruise like this would entail. Just that when we read on the website it sounded like a cool thing to do. We were probably the only couple who weren't dressed for the occasion. Covered in grime and sweat and wearing clothes that would have made a coal miner proud, we inspired no confidence in the steward who checked our tickets. The now familiar trin-trina-trin-trin chords of traditional Thai music and their dance welcomed us before the live music crew took over.
Even though we were dead clumsy at the table dropping forks and spilling drinks out of excitement, we managed to have a different experience. Food as usual was a struggle to identify edible items. The meal consisted of salad and then directly dessert for us. I never appreciated till then that the words cruise and crucifixion sound similar. If the liner were to go any slower, we would have gone backwards. But then, they meant cruise like how they meant island.
Rapidfire
The next morning was a mad scamper. We had reserved two seats on a trip to a floating market where the curiosity factor is built on the fact that vendors, sellers and wares all operate on boats while moving through the village. The market was 2 hours away from Bangkok and we had to get back in time to make it back to the airport. The trip on the boat was enjoyable and owing to depleted resources, we ended up buying nothing.
After feasting on fruits which incidentally saved us throughout the whole trip, we were taken for a humongous ride. For 1200 Bahts we could sit on an Elephant and ride through the village which the guide promised was a unique experience. It was a toss up for us between having the taxi fare to go to the airport and return to India or sit on an elephant that'll wade through the village. We settled for a can of sprite instead.
We met a couple of women from Switzerland while on the trip to the floating market. They were also in the same boat as us - literally and figuratively - with respect to finances, so we ended up trading life stories, email addresses and phone numbers while sipping our drinks.
Epilogue
The only question of interest at that point was if we would make it in time to the airport or not. In our greed to cram as many things as possible, we seriously underestimated how close we were cutting. Thanks to a taxi driver who probably understood our anxiety and the opportunity to make a quick buck, sped us in good time to Suvarnabhumi. Again the formalities didn't take long and we even had time to stuff ourselves in Burger King.
That's when the miracle happened. We were out of Bombay airport breezing through customs in 5 minutes, getting a pre-paid taxi and being on our way to the bus stand. As soon as we reached the stand, there was a bus waiting to leave which we got into. I don't remember how the 3 hour journey went for I fell asleep as soon as I bought the tickets. Alighting in the middle of the night and finding a rickshaw that didn't haggle and dropped us home in 10 minutes was a big big shock.
One of these days, I'll hopefully experience the last part of the dictionary's definition of vacation : ) and not this !
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Brain Drain
Numbskull
If a little seed of ennui is sown
In a mind as barren as my own,
And watered until its overflown
What else could it have grown ?
The mental cogs are badly worn
Edges frayed and teeth all gone
I'm at a loss as to how to hone
For not in sight is one whetstone.
Where once a bright light shone
All there now is darkness & drone
With the fuse of creativity blown
It is something I should've known !
This utter lack of ideas I bemoan
Being completely out of the 'zone'
Is making me tetchy & error-prone
Not to mention the moan and groan.
How I wish I could just disown
This lethargic & unthinking bone
And get instead a wiser clone
Till then blogging I must postpone!
If a little seed of ennui is sown
In a mind as barren as my own,
And watered until its overflown
What else could it have grown ?
The mental cogs are badly worn
Edges frayed and teeth all gone
I'm at a loss as to how to hone
For not in sight is one whetstone.
Where once a bright light shone
All there now is darkness & drone
With the fuse of creativity blown
It is something I should've known !
This utter lack of ideas I bemoan
Being completely out of the 'zone'
Is making me tetchy & error-prone
Not to mention the moan and groan.
How I wish I could just disown
This lethargic & unthinking bone
And get instead a wiser clone
Till then blogging I must postpone!
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Travel Travails
Railing
I'm a frequent traveler. Given I don't like taking the bus and airports are moving farther and farther away from cities, it is logical that train is my preferred medium. Aside from the fact that its a cheaper mode than the other two, it offers comfort too in terms of legroom, food, berths to lie on, ablutions to answer nature calls and in some newer trains facilities to use electric appliances - not to mention a chance to observe human nature from close quarters.
Putting together seventy odd diverse individuals into one box guarantees all sorts of surprises. Or should I say 10 people because the immediate neighbors are what I get to observe more keenly than the rest. I rarely befriend strangers when traveling. That in itself is rooted in my reluctance to divulge personal information rather than xenophobia, but I still seldom initiate any conversations.
Keeping my mouth shut automatically sharpens the visual and aural faculties. Normally a novel or the iPod would engage them enough for me to live in my own world during the journey, but at times it becomes impossible to do either because of distractions.Over a period of time I developed my own theory about the patterns into which these fall.
First and foremost is the berth I end up with. Almost always irrespective of the way I vary my selection, I land one very next to the toilet. There is no bigger torture than this for a normal human being even if he is suffering from heavy cold. It says so much about our civic sense or the complete lack of it and utter disregard for the next person who might need to use it. I can attribute my ability to hold breath for several minutes solely to this experience.
Second on the list are passengers who travel with infants and/or boisterous kids. Its amazing that they don't realize the inconvenience caused by the racket their progeny generate. I once saw a mom of a kid I'd have liked to kill; tee off when another traveler tried to restrain her brat. Being cooped up in a coach with a noisy kid makes me go want to go sit in the toilet and not hold my breath.
There are several more like huge families who bug everyone else in the compartment with their voluminous luggage, unauthorized boarders whose standard excuse is 'will get down in the next station', people who assume they are the appointed entertainers for the coach and blare music on their cellphones, those who won't switch off the lights at night and continue to chat in loud voices.
I find all this grating on my nerves when the mood is foul but when my disposition is sunnier I just accept this as a part and parcel of life. In either case, I continue with my policy of keeping the eyes and ears open and the trap shut.
I'm a frequent traveler. Given I don't like taking the bus and airports are moving farther and farther away from cities, it is logical that train is my preferred medium. Aside from the fact that its a cheaper mode than the other two, it offers comfort too in terms of legroom, food, berths to lie on, ablutions to answer nature calls and in some newer trains facilities to use electric appliances - not to mention a chance to observe human nature from close quarters.
Putting together seventy odd diverse individuals into one box guarantees all sorts of surprises. Or should I say 10 people because the immediate neighbors are what I get to observe more keenly than the rest. I rarely befriend strangers when traveling. That in itself is rooted in my reluctance to divulge personal information rather than xenophobia, but I still seldom initiate any conversations.
Keeping my mouth shut automatically sharpens the visual and aural faculties. Normally a novel or the iPod would engage them enough for me to live in my own world during the journey, but at times it becomes impossible to do either because of distractions.Over a period of time I developed my own theory about the patterns into which these fall.
First and foremost is the berth I end up with. Almost always irrespective of the way I vary my selection, I land one very next to the toilet. There is no bigger torture than this for a normal human being even if he is suffering from heavy cold. It says so much about our civic sense or the complete lack of it and utter disregard for the next person who might need to use it. I can attribute my ability to hold breath for several minutes solely to this experience.
Second on the list are passengers who travel with infants and/or boisterous kids. Its amazing that they don't realize the inconvenience caused by the racket their progeny generate. I once saw a mom of a kid I'd have liked to kill; tee off when another traveler tried to restrain her brat. Being cooped up in a coach with a noisy kid makes me go want to go sit in the toilet and not hold my breath.
There are several more like huge families who bug everyone else in the compartment with their voluminous luggage, unauthorized boarders whose standard excuse is 'will get down in the next station', people who assume they are the appointed entertainers for the coach and blare music on their cellphones, those who won't switch off the lights at night and continue to chat in loud voices.
I find all this grating on my nerves when the mood is foul but when my disposition is sunnier I just accept this as a part and parcel of life. In either case, I continue with my policy of keeping the eyes and ears open and the trap shut.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Demeaning Demeanour
A dirge for amiability
In a fracas was I embroiled
Early this morning as I toiled
With attempts to reach office thwarted
I don't even know how it started.
Here I was about to turn right
Out of nowhere came a biker to fight
He was all indignant and uptight
Blaming me for an oversight.
I didn't flash the indicator early
For him to notice, apparently
I knew this wasn't true really
And lost my temper very nearly.
Still not sure how I kept it in check
Merely brushing him away like a fleck
I did switch off my stereo deck
To hear the tirade of this jerk.
He insisted I stop so we can chat
I couldn't agree to something like that;
And went on driving with no further thought
Other than a wish to swat him like a gnat.
At this snub to his whiny prattle
He upgraded it to a full-blown battle
Bulldozing his way like stray cattle
He followed me mouthing his tattle.
An unexpected support was given
Not to me, but the story's villain
The security through which he had driven
Inexplicably chose his side to be in !
I reached the end of my tether
And told them not to be a bother
In the same breath to the other
Wanted to add an expletive about his mother.
Better sense prevailed instead
And good that nothing was said
Not wanting the ill-will to spread
I just simply drove ahead.
If I were to objectively gauge
All that happened till this stage
Couldn't help; for I'm no sage
Feeling a victim of road rage.
In a fracas was I embroiled
Early this morning as I toiled
With attempts to reach office thwarted
I don't even know how it started.
Here I was about to turn right
Out of nowhere came a biker to fight
He was all indignant and uptight
Blaming me for an oversight.
I didn't flash the indicator early
For him to notice, apparently
I knew this wasn't true really
And lost my temper very nearly.
Still not sure how I kept it in check
Merely brushing him away like a fleck
I did switch off my stereo deck
To hear the tirade of this jerk.
He insisted I stop so we can chat
I couldn't agree to something like that;
And went on driving with no further thought
Other than a wish to swat him like a gnat.
At this snub to his whiny prattle
He upgraded it to a full-blown battle
Bulldozing his way like stray cattle
He followed me mouthing his tattle.
An unexpected support was given
Not to me, but the story's villain
The security through which he had driven
Inexplicably chose his side to be in !
I reached the end of my tether
And told them not to be a bother
In the same breath to the other
Wanted to add an expletive about his mother.
Better sense prevailed instead
And good that nothing was said
Not wanting the ill-will to spread
I just simply drove ahead.
If I were to objectively gauge
All that happened till this stage
Couldn't help; for I'm no sage
Feeling a victim of road rage.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Novus Annum
Mellow Eve
What's the deal with midnight parties ? Be it birthdays or anniversaries or new years, people seem to think greeting precisely at 00:00 hours is a cool thing to do. While I've no particular preference either way it is amusing to be 'remembered' only on occasions.Not to mention the plans,which should include in some variation or the other all these - drinks,friends,games,movies,food. I made no such till the last day and to be frank the plan was no different to what we do on some of the other 364 days of the year. We just gathered at a friend's place and with a movie running we gorged on pizza, muffins and soda. Midnight was an excuse to add a mixed fruit cake to the list and we called it a day or night or year or whatever.
Frenzied Day
If I were sentimental or superstitious, I would have believed in making it a great day in the asinine hope that the rest of the year will follow suit. Having gone through the first half of it, I was wishing it wouldn't. My sister was planning to visit later this month and while here she wanted to renew her visa. The task of getting a bank receipt for appointment befell me.A task of no taxing proportions or unexpected twists. But life seldom goes that way.
Given that I drive a car whose registration number belongs to another state, I'm forever on the lookout for our esteemed civil servants aka traffic cops. Life on the lam like a fugitive describes my attempts to stay out of their path. Its no secret that they are the main reason I try and come to office early and leave after the dark. Add to that, the seemingly cramped quarters in the office car park and you'll know my reluctance. Taking the car out from there is the equivalent of getting up from your seat in a general compartment on the train. You'll be lucky to get into it again.
Fortunately there was a simplistic solution to my conundrum - to borrow a bike from a colleague. The first crisis erupted when I reached the basement. While it looked impossible to fit in a bicycle when I was looking to park the car, it was now obvious that at least a million bikes could be parked easily.The whole place was teeming with them and I had no hope of locating my colleague's despite his instructions on how to reach it. After a futile 10 minutes spent in the proverbial needle in haystack search, I had to call him to personally identify it for me.
The bank in question had branches all over the town and from past experience I knew the receipt could be obtained from Bhandarkar road branch which as fate would have it was located farthest from my office. More in desperation than hope, I headed to the nearest branch which was 5 min away. Hearing my request, the person at the help desk advised me to try Bhandarkar road branch. Probably seeing my crestfallen face, she added, "or the boat club road branch" immediately perking me up. The latter wasn't exactly a stone's throw away, but was better than the former. Another 10 min ride.
The cubbyhole size of the boat club road branch didn't inspire much confidence, I doubted if it could host anything more than an ATM, but I plowed on. My fears were vindicated when I was asked to visit yet again the Bhandarkar road branch or Deep bungalow chowk branch. By now I should have learnt my lesson and headed straight to the tried and tested subdivision of the bank, but I was in no mood to concede defeat so soon.
Deep bungalow chowk branch had no problems whatsoever with its dimensions and in fact assured me that I had made the right choice. The huge queues everywhere justified my decision that this buzzing area must indeed be the place. After a 15 min waiting period, the customer rep brought me crashing to earth. Bhandarkar road it is she said. This time I knew I was beaten and headed straight to where I should have gone in the first place.
The only good thing I did while bouncing like a bad cheque from one branch to another was to have the presence of mind to withdraw the requisite fee. The transaction took 10 min flat and I was out of the bank and on my way back to office in what was a good hour later than otherwise it would have been. So much for a good start to the new year. Sigh !
What's the deal with midnight parties ? Be it birthdays or anniversaries or new years, people seem to think greeting precisely at 00:00 hours is a cool thing to do. While I've no particular preference either way it is amusing to be 'remembered' only on occasions.Not to mention the plans,which should include in some variation or the other all these - drinks,friends,games,movies,food. I made no such till the last day and to be frank the plan was no different to what we do on some of the other 364 days of the year. We just gathered at a friend's place and with a movie running we gorged on pizza, muffins and soda. Midnight was an excuse to add a mixed fruit cake to the list and we called it a day or night or year or whatever.
Frenzied Day
If I were sentimental or superstitious, I would have believed in making it a great day in the asinine hope that the rest of the year will follow suit. Having gone through the first half of it, I was wishing it wouldn't. My sister was planning to visit later this month and while here she wanted to renew her visa. The task of getting a bank receipt for appointment befell me.A task of no taxing proportions or unexpected twists. But life seldom goes that way.
Given that I drive a car whose registration number belongs to another state, I'm forever on the lookout for our esteemed civil servants aka traffic cops. Life on the lam like a fugitive describes my attempts to stay out of their path. Its no secret that they are the main reason I try and come to office early and leave after the dark. Add to that, the seemingly cramped quarters in the office car park and you'll know my reluctance. Taking the car out from there is the equivalent of getting up from your seat in a general compartment on the train. You'll be lucky to get into it again.
Fortunately there was a simplistic solution to my conundrum - to borrow a bike from a colleague. The first crisis erupted when I reached the basement. While it looked impossible to fit in a bicycle when I was looking to park the car, it was now obvious that at least a million bikes could be parked easily.The whole place was teeming with them and I had no hope of locating my colleague's despite his instructions on how to reach it. After a futile 10 minutes spent in the proverbial needle in haystack search, I had to call him to personally identify it for me.
The bank in question had branches all over the town and from past experience I knew the receipt could be obtained from Bhandarkar road branch which as fate would have it was located farthest from my office. More in desperation than hope, I headed to the nearest branch which was 5 min away. Hearing my request, the person at the help desk advised me to try Bhandarkar road branch. Probably seeing my crestfallen face, she added, "or the boat club road branch" immediately perking me up. The latter wasn't exactly a stone's throw away, but was better than the former. Another 10 min ride.
The cubbyhole size of the boat club road branch didn't inspire much confidence, I doubted if it could host anything more than an ATM, but I plowed on. My fears were vindicated when I was asked to visit yet again the Bhandarkar road branch or Deep bungalow chowk branch. By now I should have learnt my lesson and headed straight to the tried and tested subdivision of the bank, but I was in no mood to concede defeat so soon.
Deep bungalow chowk branch had no problems whatsoever with its dimensions and in fact assured me that I had made the right choice. The huge queues everywhere justified my decision that this buzzing area must indeed be the place. After a 15 min waiting period, the customer rep brought me crashing to earth. Bhandarkar road it is she said. This time I knew I was beaten and headed straight to where I should have gone in the first place.
The only good thing I did while bouncing like a bad cheque from one branch to another was to have the presence of mind to withdraw the requisite fee. The transaction took 10 min flat and I was out of the bank and on my way back to office in what was a good hour later than otherwise it would have been. So much for a good start to the new year. Sigh !
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