An Ode to the Bad Guy

In most fairy tales, stories, novels, plays and movies the most common pattern of narration employed is the characterization of the Hero(protagonist) -Villain(antagonist) pair. We all like a Hero who saves the day, stands for all that is righteous in the world, helps those in dire need and stops the antagonist in his tracks when he/she is conniving or implementing a sinister plan usually to destroy cities, kill people or cause destruction - large scale or otherwise. In the end it is usually the hero who steals the limelight leaving the villain regretting his misdeeds or usually dead; but lets do an autopsy of the Hero - Villain complex shall we?

I for one have always believed that the mastery of a story teller resonates in the manner in which he/she designs the Anti Hero or the Antagonist - which you can clearly notice in most Best selling books, movies and stories. For instance the Harry Potter series which had an excellent Anti Hero character in Lord Voldemort who gave the teenage wand wielding wizard Harry Potter ample opportunities to unearth the dormant heroism lying within him is something that will be appreciated say even 50 years down the road because the tale of Harry Potter is something I believe transcends age.

Movies on the other hand are a completely different cup of tea altogether. If books focus on maximizing the grey shade element on the antagonist; movies make them look like the latest escapees from a Home for the Mentally challenged. They are often made to look like mindless buffoons who seem to have all the resources in terms of money, political clout, intellect and influence at the beginning of the movie but a hero who 9.9 times out of 10 rises from dust will relieve them of their everything in the last half an hour of the movie not to mention that he usually has his way with the daughter or sister of the villain as well - talk about adding insult to injury.

Indian movie villains across languages are my pet peeve; most of whom are portrayed to be scarily moustached fat rich business men or landlords who usually have the heroes working under them either as their right hand men or as their sons. Now it becomes the prerogative of the writers to sell you 'the villain is pure evil' line so as to lay the foundation for the biblical reminder - Good always triumphs over evil. As a thumb rule they usually end up bringing in a bimbo love interest into the mix - primarily for a multitude of  activities; the most important of which involves running around random trees in a song and whom the villain can at his own sweet convenience abduct or even kill when he deems her presence unnecessary which mind you he never does. Resulting in the hero almost always swearing vengeance at the villain in front of an idol of his favorite deity to the resounding background score of ringing temple bells due to the fiercely blowing wind on an intense thundershower night.

Not surprisingly I am a sucker for movies or stories that have a great bad guy in the mix - the likes of which include Professor James Moriarty in Sherlock Holmes, Agent Smith in The Matrix or Bob Biswas in Kahaani among many many more; simply because their character sketches were done so brilliantly and that they complemented the net plot of the story or the movie. Female villainesses are not too far behind either - they are shown to be dashingly beautiful ladies who wear designer clothes and flirt perennialy with danger and take pride in pulling one over on the protagonist.     

When I was little and boys my age dreamt of being the next Shahrukh Khan; I had it fixed in my pea sized brain that I was the next big villain waiting to burst into the scene - yes, I'm very realistic that way - I know. Come to think of it - who wouldn't want to be a bratty, snotty rich person who has servants that answer to my every beck and call, drive costly cars, dress up in a gaudy night suit with a vintage hand crafted smoking pipe in my mouth and almost always have my way with any woman I want as opposed to being a HERO who firstly has to appear for the entire 3 odd hours of the movie, get beaten black, blue and god knows what shade of green on multiple occasions, fight several hoards of men sent by the villain, be the beacon of righteousness and finally barely but only very barely mind you; end up on the winning side minus half the family who if we remember well the villain finishes off - did I hear someone say BUZZKILL?

While expecting the villain to come up trumps at the end of a story would be a practical impossibility and considering the dime a dozen dozen shoddy movies that come into our cinemas every month I realistically don't see the quality of villains on the silver screen or otherwise going up drastically but one is legally allowed to be an eternal optimist, right?

Lets raise a toast to those poor misdirected souls who believe in upsetting the balance of the apple cart and upholding something that is not exactly righteous for it is them who make Heroes out of ordinary men and women.                   

Within the head of an Evil Dictator

For someone who has loathed libraries all his life and has grown up on a steady diet of popular fiction, action, spy and thriller novels; reading a biography for leisure was something I'd imagined I'd do only at Gun point. Let it be known here that apart from having been forced to read and then fall in love with - My Experiements with Truth by M.K Gandhi, this is the only other biography I've managed to read from cover to cover, given that I have the patience of a cranky 4 year old - it is nothing short of an achievement.

Right from the opening lines, the book takes a third person narrative rife with recollections and accounts from associated characters in The Führer's life and times. The research done is so intricate and simply mind boggling at times that the author on a few occasions even explains how Hitler as a little boy possessed certain personality traits which would play a key role in his becoming the Supreme leader of Germany later on. For instance, his stubborn refusal to see facts on the face when he doesn't get through to Vienna's Art University but throws a hissy fit by drifting into a lengthy scathing monologue about how the establishment refuses to recognize god sent talent if it were to stand right under its nose.

During his nascent years, he is portrayed as a very ordinary man easily susceptible to emotion and rage with a very short sighted view of the world acquired by his regular reading of fascist and racially motivated literature in the form of newspapers and books which ultimately leads him to believe that he is The Savior that a battered Germany post its World War 1 surrender has been waiting for.

Surrounded by like minded people who feel cheated and let down by the hapless government both during the 1st World War and after it - he joins the ranks of the National Socialist German Workers Party (NSDAP later infamously known as the Nazi Party) and is impressed by what they have for a party ideology which in short calls for upheaval of German society, establishment and the government. Growing within the ranks of a fairly new party is like a walk on a fresh meadow to him with his ruthless sidelining of anyone or anything opposed to his views or ideas.

The Nazi party soon comes to power in Germany - not because of their own popularity but as a result of practically all their opponents being shoddy. To no one's surprise Hitler arm twists the party leadership and one instance even the President of Germany to wrest the post of Chancellor of Germany which he seizes ultimately and brings in an array of changes almost instantaneously. One of which were isolating and at times even arresting  anyone and everyone who believed in any doctrine or ideology other than National Socialism; his pet peeves being Marxism, Bolshevism and Communism. This effectively meant that the Nazi party was the only party contesting the elections and to no one's surprise they kept scoring resounding victories in practically every election from 1933 till the end of the war. The methods employed in acquiring total control of power in Germany are so calculated that you almost feel respect towards the genius that is Adolf Hitler.

Hitler at this stage is the Supreme leader of Germany with autocratic control over society, law, parliament and The armed forces. He is also described as someone who lived a very leisure life - waking up at mid day, watching movies daily before bed, eating a variety of cuisines and taking long pleasurable walks in his plush alpine resort in Bavaria as opposed to controlling his seat of power in Berlin which he visited only when the need arose. He saw no need to interfere in the daily working of the government and only saw fit in dealing with policy making in which he was fed largely one sided data which primarily led to Germany going to war and the holocaust that followed. 

Once on the offensive and scoring resounding military victories against Czechoslovakia, Poland, France, Netherlands, Belgium and most of Eastern Europe - he is depicted to have become extremely power hungry with very realistic dreams of making the whole world bow down to him under the Nazi salute. It would be a mistake to say that his assumptions were wrong but for his clouded judgement to attack Russia ( a former ally in his conquest of Poland) in the winter of 1941 which he was warned against by his deputies and comrades but refused to listen to because he thought they were playing for peanuts while he was there to win.

From there on, slowly but steadily he trod on the path to ruin making one big blunder after another; in the process losing not only the war but also his sanity, trust on his own - deputies, comrades, military commanders and people. The depiction of his final 10 days when he is distrustful of anyone, has shivering hands and has his meals sampled by someone right in front of his eyes to make sure that it isn't poisoned only shows how a man who mercurially rose to occupy the ultimate seat of power in the Third Reich was reduced to a mumbling and trembling bundle of nerves.       

Though a touch lesser than 1000 pages long - the book is a wonderful insight into how lives and situations can easily be influenced by ideology and power. It is definitely something I implore you to read if you want an insight not only into the head of the evil dictator but also of World War 2.

                 

      

  



   

Because I signed up for this

When you try to make a living in a country whose guts practically half of Europe hates and have no choice but to suck up to because it keeps them from collapsing - 90 out of a 100 times you will find yourself in Germany looking for a job opening or as is my case - looking for an internship. Now, my university has this rule that internships are firstly mandatory and have to last a minimum of half a year for them to be able to make a sizable impact on your foreseeable career path. Couple that with being an international student in a country that doesn't necessarily have a predominantly English speaking business culture and wallah you have yourself a nice soup.

The internship circus began with my grandmother lecturing me every few days on (and I'm paraphrasing) Why I couldn't be like others and simply take up campus placements like normal people but had to go to some foreign land where people use paper to clean their hinds. Amid all this hungama began my hunt for an internship which involved deciding what I wanted out of an internship - to which I was as clueless an infant who was fed a lemon for the first time in his life.  

The first step involved the preparation of a resume and a cover letter which was a whole different circus in itself bereft with abbreviated descriptions of the numerous comedies that had been a part of my experience since school, college and during my masters. I cannot not help but stifle a smile which when let loose would inevitably develop into a fit of uncontrollable laughter when I look at the last few lines of my resume each time which say - I hereby declare that all that I have stated and achieved so far to the best of my ability, knowledge and memory is true. 

The next step involved scouting company career sites to see what they had on offer and surprise surprise most German companies had a line in their long list of requirements which more or less said - English skills necessary albeit in German. I began spraying my application in all conceivable coordinates - Polar, Cartesian, Cylindrical and Imaginary as well, if you will.

The most taxing and frustrating part of the process came next - The Wait. So I waited and waited and waited some more and there was no response despite having sent out enough and more feelers. At one point I even contemplated sending this

 

Thankfully, it didn't come to that and I got a call one evening asking for a Herr Scribblings. You have to believe me when I say I wondered for a split moment why this random guy was asking for my father and that too in German, that's when it struck me that he was calling for me after having gone through the application I had sent for the position he had advertised for. Suffice to say the telephone interview went in a blitz and was completely in German after which I was invited to a personal interview which was also completely in German and the rest as they say is history.

Make way; for the Atrocious has entered the corporate world.         

     

Past in a click

Our window to the outside world today is majorly through the various media, chiefly electronic in which the contribution of Social Networking is nothing short of immense in shaping our perceptions, impressions and views on many global and local issues likewise - either directly or indirectly. It is incredible how much information is accessible on the press of mouse click or more popularly nowadays - the touch of a screen.

The coming of the Social Networking revolution signaled the beginning of the end for many small but significant activities that we were used to regularly doing up until then. In this write-up I will describe a few that completely changed the way we looked at life.

a) Life Decisions -  

In a recent conversation that I had with my grandparents, they were telling me how they had to write letters every single time to let their concerned one's know about the happenings in their lives; right from a birth, a death or a marriage in the family among many other things. Compare that to our parents' generation wherein telephone calls albeit of poor quality and scarce quantity were more commonplace.

Compare those two scenarios now to our generation - The Social Networking generation. Friendships are forged, varied relationships blossom, love flourishes, romantic messages are sent, jokes are shared, personal and professional bonds are made, even marriages are broadcast halfway across the world, baby births are congratulated and heck even deaths are announced on Social networking platforms - all at the click of a button and in the split of a second. 

Imagine our kids and grand kids skimming through our Facebook page a couple of decades down the line; pointing and laughing at knowing our every single story, goof up and our childish eccentricities in a jiffy. Whats worse is that, given that we were the first generation to benefit from the 'in thing' that was Social Networking and the fact that we took to it like fish to water - they could dig even deeper into our past. 

Here I take the liberty of stating that most Facebook users in India were not first timers in the Social Networking jungle but merely immigrants from Orkut which is practically every FB user's dark past. To think that I would get the shudders when my kid skims through my orkut page would be the least of my worries because I don't have the insulation of making my crazy adventures sound interesting and cool the way my parents did when they shared their teenage or childhood stories with me.

Sample this coversation - 30 years down the road when your kid reads a post on your FB wall that says - I`m through with you.

Your Kid: Were you dumped on FB when you were in college? Why? 

All you can probably come up with is - I was going to dump her as well just that she beat me to it because my internet was down. An ace lawyer would not be able to refute it for you because all your friends, relatives, classmates and even your Kamwali Bai would have liked and commented on that wall post in which you were ceremoniously dumped. Heck my parents would have been the first to comment LOL/ROFL on that fateful post.

So the moral of the story is - Make no mistakes, even if you do - Wipe out the evidence before someone gets their hands on it :P.  

b) Chronicling -

You notice the severity and magnitude of change in the last 30 years when your parents complain that they're not able to get in touch with people in their previous job or project whereas you are easily able to track down a complete stranger you met 15 minutes ago through a mutual contact and send that person an add request.

Gone is the era of Slam books, Yearbook photographs and photo albums chronicling the relationship and memories of your school or team. The change is so immense that unless a set of our photos or notes of a tour, experience or farewell are either digital or online we refuse to regard it as a valid life experience.

I am reminded of a time when film was still being used to click pictures and we would have to immediately develop it so that it could be printed and stacked safely in an album for future reminiscence. Compare that to the scenario we have now, clicking 1000's of pictures on our high definition cameras with no compulsion of printing, to be stored on our numerous hard drives or online photo albums and instantaneously forgotten, only to be remembered when we have to over write it with something else that is more valuable because of a database space crunch.

Social networking has effectively displaced diary and journal writing with Personal notes on social networking pages and online journals which has deprived us and the future from the joy of flipping through old and smelly paper journals and diaries adorned with fountain pen written verses and thoughts that stir up memories more effectively than any electronic media.

PS 1: Sooner or later, this( Below) is going to hold true unless we stay updated with the momentary 'In thing'.

            

   
PS 2: I`m guilty of some of the activities mentioned above as well - so let me not cry Wolf.

                


 

               

Your place or Mine?

Before you let your blessed mind run into overdrive, let me explain that the title; apart from being a shoddy pick up line most popularly used at shady bars by equally shady characters almost got me into a tiff with a couple of friends a few days ago. 

In what began as an innocent inquiry into where one could find the best Pav Bhaaji in India, blew out to a full fledged argument as to how one city(their own) is perennially better than any other in the country with the chief culprits being the big city folk who came to the fiery rescue of their respective namesakes.  

• The Mumbaikar proclaimed Mumbai to be his eternal love with the packed locals, the monsoon, home to Sachin Tendulkar and Bollywood.
• A Delhiite claimed Delhi to be the best with honors like the National Capital, bustling markets, home to the leaders of the country, The Delhi Metro and being a potpourri of many cultures, languages and people. 
• A Kolkattan told us that they were home to the world's best Rasgulla's, fish, intellectuals, Sourav Ganguly and therefore staked claim to the best city.
• A Chennaiite proudly spoke at length about the Marina Beach, the educated cricket crazy crowd at Chepauk, the 'to die for' Sambar immersed Vada's and its adopted son MS Dhoni. 
• A Bangalorean boasted about the hill station like weather, numerous and more malls, bustling nightlife and how it is an absolute IT haven.

This brings me to 2 questions:-

1. Does it even make sense to compare cities as different as apples and oranges with the same scale? 
2. On what basis does one proclaim one city to be better than any other?

On close introspection one notices that it ultimately boils down to the fact that one city is preferred over another simply for the reason that one has lived in a city X for a significant number of years whereas one has toured, stayed or simply passed through another city Y for a considerably lesser time frame. To brand the said city Y and its dwellers with a short and narrow sighted judgement seems flawed on the face of it to me as it flouts the basic tenet of coexistence - To each his/her own.

It is said that the answers are right in front of you - its just a matter of asking the right questions. Lo and behold, it struck me how trivial the discussion was; the end objectives hardly justified the means for we hardly got any concrete answers but got to hear plentiful complaints about our favorite cities in the bargain.

Ultimately, Isn't home defined by where the heart is and not the City we reside in?  

PS: I found it difficult to take sides in the aforementioned argument because I've stayed in far too many to be able to pick just the one and defend it like my life depended on it.                

 

       





      

365 - Calls for a Glass of Orange Juice

Exactly a year to the day is when my tryst with blogging began. I distinctly remember being completely blank about the whole concept of blogging and kept muttering the word 'blog' a minimum of 1008 times in every possible intonation that afternoon to try and get my head around the nitty-gritties of blogging. It goes without saying that I still have a long long way to go but I can safely say I`m not stuck at where I started off.

My blog is something that I've aspired to be in life - A Giver. It has been a giver since its inception and I'm fairly convinced it will continue to function in this capacity to its final day and moment. All along it has given, given and given some more. If on one occasion it has given me the freedom of expression, it  has simultaneously given me a hobby, a past time and a long term activity.       

The blog has been a magical flying carpet of sorts in accompanying me from the safe cradle of the motherland to journeys across several nations, seas and places; travelling with me, part taking in my adventures, wacky experiences and life lessons. It has often doubled, tripled or even quadrupled as my personal punching bag, rant chamber and a platform which gives me the comfort of pouring out my nonsense. 

It has given me an outlet to mould my barely existent creativity into posts which sometimes have to be written to get a load off my chest or when I have a perspective, idea or notion to share with the world. Importantly it has provided a counter where, what I share is read, critiqued and commented upon by like minded people; otherwise to paraphrase the intelligent soul who came up with this line - I would be no different than an idiot talking to himself, only a blog.

It is these very people who's inputs, comments, critiques and feedback have fed the blog with a steady charge to keep surging ahead one post at a time and in the process helped me grow as a blog writer and a human being that I want to applaud and am much grateful for.

So join me in raising a glass of Orange Juice (I don't do Alcohol :P) to celebrate one year of my blog's existence with the promise that I keep spamming your dashboard's/monitors with more of my nonsense in the foreseeable future.

Cheers :)              

   

        

I want to sound wimpy and damn it - I shall

You have been hereby forewarned that another episode of my psychotic ranting and wimping is in session.  

I know I haven't written much on this space to begin with but this month has been the worst - I've only moved as far as an asthmatic ant with some heavy shopping so far as writing is concerned. Yes, I've been away and know fully well that you missed my nonsense - Do I hear nay-Sayers? I`m sure your noses just grew longer.   

So here I am back doing what I do - rant the hair off of my head because this has been one rant worthy month indeed. Changes have come left, right and center and screw up's have happened almost at the speed of light; so bite me if I sound wound up and cranky.

Thunderbolt 1: Donning the role of the Lone wolf

I've always maintained that I don't get homesick because when I feel like its going to set in, I distract myself by claiming to be too awesome to be homesick #TrueStory. In fact I had tricked myself so much that the meaning of homesick had changed to sick of home for me. 

Turns out the roomie made me feel at home since day one and since he had to move to his lady's town for an internship(convenient for him) - I`ve had to slog not only with empty space but with all those memories of the awesome times we've had together. What do you call a person who gets homesick after 2 years? Is there even a term for that?    

Thunderbolt 2: The floor being swept off underneath you.

As the world welcomed February and with it the last few weeks of winter, the month of love and the shortest month of the year; I was rather bluntly informed that my dormitory would be torn down in April to make way for a bigger and more sprawling dormitory. 

To imagine that I am going away from the place I've called home away from home, the place where I got to eat so many different cakes, cookies and pies every week and most importantly the place where I've had the honor of having 12 different people from as many nationalities as neighbors was equivalent to a lower jaw punch to say the least. Just when I thought I was set and getting comfy here - I will have to set up my stuff in some other place; make new floor mates and start over again. Summing up I`m going to have to be - shameless, company less and homeless in a month from now because where I`ll shift to will at best be a room in a dorm but not a home.

Thunderbolt 3: I know what you did in the Exam Hall

I had been raving to all and sundry about this tough cookie cum terror cum monster of an exam that I had last week which involved every freaking module of my bachelor degree and was 5 hours long. I had even begun preparing for it more than a month prior to the date of the exam. If you know me well enough you will realize that for me to take something in life this seriously, I would have to be severely affected by

a)  Terminal disease leading to death.

b) Threatening by a conniving blackmailer.

c)  Watching a weekend marathon of Don 2, Ra One, Ek Deewana Tha and Tell me Oh Khuda and checking my pulse to make sure I was alive.

d)  Giving this exam.

So, The D-Day arrived and I very nervously tried to mask the noise of my chattering teeth and involuntary disco dancing of my trembling feet exhibiting my not so candid fright for this exam by trying to make small talk outside the exam hall with my friends and was pretty sure I was succeeding as much as a Zebra wearing dark glasses attempting to get into a Polar bear only golf club.

Into the exam we went hoping to come out alive and hopefully sane. As the question booklets (What do you think, it's a 5 hour exam - there had to be a booklet) were distributed and people started reading into them, I saw multiple sets of eyes widen, something I had not even seen happen even when they watched a well made horror flick. I knew right then that there was a gang rape ( pardon the language but the word is the closest description of what actually transpired) in the offing. Mentally preparing myself to face the music - even before I get my question booklet, a pair (gf-bf) hand in their materials and leave the hall. 5 minutes into the exam and 2 people had quit already.

An hour into the exam only ten people are left sitting in the exam hall and a few dozen pairs of eyes are staring at me from outside wondering what I could possibly be doing in the middle of a crisis zone. It was a crisis indeed, a large crisis; if you may. In fact a 15 storeyed crisis with plush interiors, carpeting, 24 hour electricity and a large billboard on top that reads in bold - THIS IS A LARGE CRISIS. 

I stuck it out; I lasted 5 hours in that hall. It's anybody's guess what the outcome of the exam was going to be like but I stuck it out - A zen monk was born. Of course there were expletives hurled at the paper setters family - mother and sisters in particular by my generally well meaning but temporarily infuriated Hindi speaking friends at the end of it but I was just glad it was over and so were they.     

   

PS: If you've read the post this far, firstly congratulations and if you thought this sounded like the condensed  version of the Diary of a Wimpy Kid, you're probably right.

That's enough blah for now. 

  

The Wind on my Face

The dark circles under my eyes, the stress lines on my forehead and a few dozen grey strands in the midst of my already thinning hairline were telltale signs that I had to exhibit  show that I was in a high pressure job. Having taken up my first job immediately after a grueling 4 years of an undergraduate engineering degree from a stellar university and doing absolutely nothing related to what my undergraduate program taught me in terms of work I did seemed like a compromise in the beginning but the money more than compensated for it.

Fed up with the mundane grind of daily life, a dozen different failed attempts at a relationship and almost becoming an alcoholic cum drug addict; I found that loneliness and frustration were my sole companions through the journey thus far and most things had not exactly turned out as per plan. People and their opinions nauseate me; for it is the only thing they share for free and merely because it is of no use to them.When asked on how to end life, people will give you a million and more reasons to live without respect for personal choice. I was an über frustrated soul and it was Time.

Destiny had sucked away all the excitement from life and I wasn't going to go out without reclaiming some back. So, I chose to do the act from a very high bridge figuring that it would give me the high of an adrenaline rush; second only to a shot of morphine which I had generously injected into myself in the past but resolved again not to in therapy. Taking initiative has always been my forte and I marched on to the edge of the bridge and leaped off it before my mind could process another thought and talk me out of it.

Within the first second of my free fall, the mind bombed itself with a countless thoughts as it was kick started by the inflow of adrenaline and I could finally feel the healthy breeze plough through my hairline. It is said that when one falls from a large height with the eyes closed, the subconscious shows you images of your loved one's, dreams and passions among other things. True to the word, I could picture the smiling faces of my parents; their hopes, dreams, wishes and prayers for me. Visibly scared at the thought of how they might react to this act of mine; I opened my eyes to witness the serene canyon and the thin stream of water between the mountains as I descended downward rapidly.

As I shut my eyes again for the next few milliseconds of my fall, I could picture my numerous ex-girlfriends, most of them opportunists who utilized my thick wallet to their advantage save one who helped me come out of Drug Addiction and vowed to wait for me as she knew my decisiveness when I said a firm no to her. Her smile had lit up many a day in that dark passage of time but being the clown that I was; I put her on the back burner and was paying for it now as I missed her company, her smile and her warmth terribly. All I wanted was to envelope her into a hug and never let go. 

In real time, one and half seconds had passed since the instant I jumped off the edge and I was regretting it already, I was too chicken for the fall but it was too late now that I was midway and being continually pulled down swiftly by the forces of gravity. I hoped and prayed from the deepest trenches of my heart that I could undo what I had just done and start afresh again but alas it wasn't to be. Pulling myself together in what were my last few seconds on planet earth, I looked skyward to see a beautiful sunrise from the crevices of the mountain tops and smiled because I wanted to go out on gratefulness.

As if on cue and much to my amazement, I felt an aggressive tug on my ankles and partially stopped mid air only to realize that I had bungee jumped off a bridge and was oscillating like a pendulum from end to end. I continued swaying in mid air till all the potential energy from the jump was dissipated and was hauled up to the bridge from where I had jumped off.

Turns out Life does give you second chances.       

                 
PS: My first attempt at fiction. Comments, rotten tomatoes, eggs and brickbats - Welcome.
               



          

The Cappadocian Roller Coaster - Turkish Sojourn - Part 3

If you are as clueless as to what's going on, I'd say- get your hind here , here and come back to this one.

After literally treading the streets and squares of Istanbul, a pleasant change of scene awaited us at Cappadocia which was a good 800 kms and a 10 hour drive from Istanbul. The road trip by itself was memorable for more reasons than I can count on my fingers and deserves a post by itself but since that is not the focus of this post, I will give you a shorthand lowdown on the (mis)happenings of our road trip.

We left Istanbul at 3.00 AM to learn that our GPS system was not functioning and went around in circles till we tanked up at a bunk and also asked the tanking guy for directions. Filled with the enthusiasm of doing a road trip, we had conveniently forgotten that most tanking assistants in Turkey still spoke only Turkish and not      a word of English. Half an hour of failed sign language gesturing later someone realized that they had a map of highway network on their I-Pad and we were promptly directions to the highway.

5 hours hence

Cruising along the ruggedly beautiful Turkish countryside at a swift 160 clicks an hour, the steering of the car seemed to lock up and the engine shut off magically; fortunately we managed to swerve at the right moment and came to a halt in the service lane. On alighting from the vehicle we were welcomed by a healthy breeze at -7 C and  thick fumes from the exhaust. We had to call the rental company to inform them about the breakdown and asked them for a replacement vehicle since we didn't have the time to waste on repairs. They replied that our breakdown location would take them about 2 hours to reach.

What does any sane person do when he/she is in a breakdown in the middle of nowhere with freezing conditions outside?

Sit in the car and enjoy the magic of the heater, right?

Wrong, we parked ourselves on a floor mat on the service lane in front of the broken down vehicle to play cards in the freezing weather. This in hindsight turned out to be one of the craziest things I have done till date.

One replacement vehicle and 4 hours hence, we reached the scenic town of Göreme which is perched in the valley between the Fairy Chimney mountains in Anatolia, Turkey just in time for dinner that evening. Being lead into our rooms by the hotel staff would certainly figure in some of the tales I have earmarked to tell my grand kids; for it is a sight that will never fade from memory.

Imagine being escorted to a hotel room that is actually carved out from a cave. Simply awed that we were going to be spending a couple of nights here, Food was the first words out of my mouth as we were a group of famished young guns.      

Loaded on a breakfast of fresh toast, cereal and Turkish Coffee, we ventured out to explore the sights and sounds of the valley surrounding us the next morning after a good 9 hours of blissful sleep. The first activity for the day was a bomb, quite literally.

The first thing we did on reaching the take off spot was to ask each other to pinch us to remind ourselves that we were not in a dream and would be taking off on a hot air balloon in minutes. As we took off from the spot and slowly towered above the valleys and the mystic chimney shaped rock formations, the view got dizzier and prettier at the same time, certainly a first for me. Zooming past many such fairy chimneys and valleys in exhilarating fashion ; the ride came to an end in about an hour and a half with the popping and polishing of a bottle of Alcohol Free Champagne.

It was probably the most loaded day of the trip and probably my life as well, as the next task on plan was a Quad Bike ride into the valleys of Cappadocia. For those of you, who don't know what a Quad bike is

Riding through the rough terrain of mud, slush, snow and rock; the drive gave us a ground side view of what we had previously explored perched atop the hot air balloon. The sights of the valley were simply breathtaking in most places and coupled with some monkey like bike stunts(All terrain Vehicle) we did over the slopes, rocky meadows and mountain passes made us realize that we had spent almost 4 enthralling hours with the bikes which seemed to pass off in a matter of minutes, Darn you relativity.

Binging on a meal at a restaurant with a pot of Shisha to go with thereafter, we prepared for the evening to come which if you must know showed absolutely no signs of dying down on the excitement front.

        

The Fire reminded me of Dragon aka DIGS

The evening began with food, drink and more Shisha coupled with exhibition of Turkish cultural dances which included a Priest Dance, A Wedding dance, Acrobatics and a sizzling display of solo Belly dancing by an expert female dancer with 4 inch heels who taught a bunch of foreign volunteers from the crowd a move or two after her performance. As expected they looked pretty ordinary and tired at the end of their 15 minute training session while the lead dancer giggled and gave them each a handshake and a peck on the cheek for trying.

Early next morning we set off to Ankara, the capital of Turkey and were to fly out that night back to our homes in Germany. Ankara reminded me a lot of Delhi's NCR where the government offices, organized traffic and clearly demarcated military only zones. The day saw us visiting a couple of mosques and museums after which it was time for us to check in at the airport to fly back.

A week after getting back, a friend AK mentioned to me that we had almost pulled off a ZNMD type trip with the Ballooning, Quad Biking, Belly dance trial and a crazy Road trip, I had to agree with him. 

We had taken the vacation of a lifetime.    

    

The Istanbul Diaries - Turkish Sojourn - Part 2

                                          

The story until now - here

We set foot into Turkish soil during prime landing time to be welcomed by a mile and half long queue at Passport Control but that wasn't even the tricky part; our visa's were to be granted on arrival into Turkey and we had no clue as to whom to approach or where to go. Fortunately for us, a Border Patrol official took pity on 10 confused looking Indian boys and whisked us away to the Chief Passport Control Officer's chamber where we were given personal service along with çay. The hospitality was pleasantly surprising to us because no such assistance was offered to the others queuing up at Passport Control counters and we were out of their hair armed with a Turkish Tourist visa in practically no time.

Once past the airport premises, the vibe that Istanbul was radiating at -1C was warm to say the least and interestingly seemed very familiar to the homeland. The familiarity of the vibe seemed very uncanny as we were able to spot open top trucks, roadside vendors selling their goods and the occasional stray dog on the sidewalk after a very very long time while zipping past the heavy evening traffic in the urban jungle that was Istanbul. One might wonder what the big fuss in this familiarity business is; for someone who has stayed in an über organized array of settlements that is Germany; these sights seemed like a breath of fresh air. 

Haunts In Istanbul -

After a good night's sleep and a belly full of breakfast, we set out to explore the sights and sounds of Istanbul's streets the next morning. Our first stop was at the Sultan Ahmed Mosque more famously known as The Blue Mosque, with its intricate architecture and towering presence by the seaside, this 17th century place of worship is a must go just because it is the only mosque in the world to have 6 minarets. 

When in Istanbul one can't help but liken it to a big (approximately 8 times the size of Mumbai, so do the math) bustling Indian metropolis teaming with people who give it its vibrant spirit and perennial hustle bustle; people are always found on the streets busy; with some getting from place to place on the tramway, others selling their goods and wares or some like us who were absorbing the feel of a place so familiar to home that it never made us feel out of place. I was specially impressed by how well lit a city like Istanbul was, the structure and architecture of certain spots seemed to have amplify and assumed a whole new nature in the evenings once the lights came on.   

This feel based roaming around led us to one of Istanbul's most famous market places - Taksim Square; Mecca to thousands and thousands of Istanbul's shoppers. The central shopping street in Taksim square is a pedestrian only stretch with the occasional tram passing through its heart to ferry its passengers to other locales in the city. Armed with a tall and piping hot cup of Starbucks Hot Chocolate in the nearly freezing evening, we traversed the length of the street which seemed to go on and on and on for almost two and half hours while walking at above normal speed.

The next morning was New year's Eve and presented us an opportunity to take a cruise on the Sea of Marmara which separates Istanbul into Asian and European quarters. A point to be noted here is that Turkey and Istanbul lie both in Asia as well as Europe. Sailing past vast bridges, sea side villas and fishing harbors, the seaside view of the much awaited Bosphorous Bridge finally came. The highlight of the day was the time spent atop the completely lit bridges' walking lane watching the sizzling of the fireworks welcome the new year. A monumental moment personally because not only were we on the cusp of the new year but two continents at the same time.

Food - 

It is needless for me to impress on how difficult it is for a vegetarian to survive in Europe, but in Turkey it was a different story altogether. When moving with a large group - 10 in our case, more often than not you tend to find yourself on the minority side but this time around the tables seemed to have turned with an even split in the numbers of meat and non-meat eaters. 

That however was not the best news with respect to food; since taste bud tickling vegetarian food was hard to come by a guy in the group -  AK would actually march into every restaurant kitchen and point out the vegetarian looking ingredients like tomatoes, cabbage, onions, oil and chilly to the chef and ask him in English hints to make a salad which we would devour with oven fresh Turkish bread and down with a famous local yoghurt drink called Ayran. I had resigned to the fact that I was going to have to make do with fresh salads and cold bread until some out of the box thinking like the aforementioned got us some pretty lip smacking food.  AK continued doing that during the other legs of the trip as well and that resulted in us eating something close to Pav Bhaji, Samosa and Mattar Paneer at various eat outs.

The remainder of our time in Istanbul was spent gawking at some very pretty Turkish women (God took his time on them and trust me when I tell you they are hawwwttttt), in seaside cafe's sipping on Turkish Coffee and sampling some authentic Turkish Shisha.

We then bade our goodbye's to Istanbul in the wee hours of next morning to proceed to the next leg of our Turkish Odyssey.

To be Continued...                          

The Curious case of one thing leading to another - Turkish Sojourn - Part 1

One boring and snowy November evening last year, a friend - AR rang me up to find out what I was up to; usual inquiries ranging from what was happening on the daily event front to travel plans to the homeland to elective course selection for the end semester were made. As the cliche goes 'one thing led to another' and we were talking about what we would do for New years in no time since neither of us was going homeward. 

Ideas slowly started flowing with respect to the places we could visit to usher in the New year in an above average fashion. It is a universally known truth that a suburb or a small town in Germany is not the ideal place to be for the New Years and therefore the feasibility of visiting a previously never seen big city in Germany was initially considered and options of visiting Munich, Hamburg or Frankfurt were put forth. Now the problem with visiting such cities was that everything right from travel to food to nightclubs was crazily overpriced. So a Big No to Germany for New year's it was.

Expanding the horizon a tad further, we decided we would haunt some other party hot spots of Europe, that way we would get to explore the country as well. Options in Ibiza, Madrid and Barcelona came forward in this iteration. Yet again, famous for being pricey at the end of the year; these places went off the list as quickly as they came onto it. So a Big No to Ibiza, Madrid and Barcelona it was.

Now since Germany and practically the whole of Spain was off the list, we thought Italy with Rome, Venice and Milan now stood a very good chance but alas it wasn't to be. Inquiries with a friend who had been there last winter revealed that in the off-season, some of the tourist hot spots remained shut and importantly the air fares were anywhere but in range. A Big No to Italy it was.

At this point it struck us that we had crossed out practically the whole of Western Europe from our list. Surely  there could be someplace where we could go about exploring the sights and sounds, culture and tradition and also usher in the New Year while we were at it. 

At this point I had to go the washroom where it struck me (no wonder eh?) that we should look at unconventional locations like Portugal, Greece or Turkey which were equally famous on the tourist and party circuits and were also cost effective. The unrest in Greece was and still is all over the news and hence scared the Be-Jesus out of us. The deteriorating condition of Portugal in the European Union was also something that made us very skeptical about spending our New years there. 

The remainder was Turkey. A few days of diligent and encouraging research indicated that it was the place to be; both for a holiday and for partying as well. The costs worked out to be within limit and our expectations thereby soared; a group of 10 people was assembled quickly and a consensus taken that all of us would be spending New years in Turkey.

Our bags were packed and off we flew to Istanbul, Turkey for the first leg of our Turkish sojourn. 

To Be Continued...



                 


  

Its that time of the year

Its that time of the year again when we bid adieu to the outgoing calender year in the midst of parties, celebrations and welcome the incoming calender year with hopes, aspirations and prayers.  I'm beginning to love year ends, simply for the fact that one chapter full of distinct memories ends for a new one to take its place. 

At the end of every year when there are only a few days left, one cannot help but look back in hindsight; 2011 has been one sizzler of a chapter. It was like a bottle of wine, ageing elegantly and getting better with time. It is remarkable how reality and relativity catch up with us and make us realize certain perspectives we thought never existed.

1.What seems like a few months ago when I recollect moving into my first own room in Germany is a whisker short of a year now.

2. What seemed like my first trip into continental Europe in early 2011 was followed subsequently by plenty many; to my surprise of course.

3. What seemed like my first post in Spring 2011, is now quite some distance behind with 20 odd posts adding to it.

4. My first blog comment came in mid 2011 from one of my favorite blog writers; extremely cherished, it has paved way for all that I have today with regards to this blog space.

5. Many other firsts. 

Standing in the freezing cold New years Parade on the cusp of the new year almost a year ago, I resolved to feel grateful every single day in 2011. Although I have to admit I haven't quite kept up this resolution I cannot help but feel grateful for all the experiences and memories that 2011 has given me personally, academically and otherwise. Its almost as if there is a grand plan in the background to custom fit a different sentiment and experience for each moment, day, week, month and season of the year. In the end the out of the ordinary memories; happy, sad, boring or otherwise survive. 

I must admit that I will certainly not look at 2011 - 5,10 or 15 years down the line as just another year bade goodbye to but as the year I encountered certain events and people who made it memorable and worth remembering. At this point I must acknowledge every single reader of this blog for having taken the time to read the seldom sensible and mostly nonsensical write ups that I publish on this space. 

A specific mention must also be made to every single person who has commented on the posts that have been put up till date. I salute you for staying till the end of each post and taking the time to tell me your thoughts; your words have helped me grow in more ways than you can think and albeit temporarily keep me from being the lazy head that I usually am.

2011 has been extra special in more ways than I can think and chiefly responsible for making it so awesome are the following, I cannot even begin to appreciate what they have done for me:-

1. Ms Red - with pretty Green eyes, she calls herself Red Handed with an ugly head; little realizing how much color and laughter she brings into her readers' lives with her ever so famous rib cracking humor.

2. Ms Spiff - Humor, not blood runs in her veins. This Virgo has injected a smile on my face each time I felt even slightly less awesome. # TrueStory

3. PeeVee - fluent narration and emotion come naturally to her. She never fails to amaze me with every single post that she comes up with.

4. Nirvana - super funny Mommy of two writes like a dream leaving me wondering why she doesn't do it full time. Her comments are something I look forward to after each post.

5.Viya - Infectiously and perennially bubbly, this wannabe architect writes with the frequency of a bullet train and her art work, photographs and doodling are not even minor glimpses of her immense artistic competencies. 

6. Meoww - A supercharged battery of bubblyness; this IT professional and Cat lover radiates randomness effortlessly.

7. Dee Dee - Nautanki is not only her blog name but her standout trait. Her adventures leave the stunt directors of Bollywood desiring for more. 

A Big thank you to  - DIGS, Maithili, Confused Soul, Express, Shruthi,Priyanka, Crystal, Nick, Chandana, Shadia and many many many many others who's names might not find a mention here for putting up with me and my nonsense thus far.

The resolution for 2012 is the same as 2011 - feel grateful every night before going to bed.

HAPPY NEW YEAR.

WHAT PLANS DO YOU GUYS HAVE FOR 2012?    

     
  





    

            
   
    

The Homosexual Juggernaut

Homosexuality in the motherland has assumed a whole new perspective in the past few years. With increased awareness in the print, television and online media, the resistance towards this concept has weakened considerably with time and is definitely gaining more acceptance by the day which not only indicates that we are evolving as a society but is proof enough that humanity is alive and kicking.  

As with any new concept, there is a certain degree of misunderstanding and opposition that comes as a package deal. For instance, when the Live-In relationship started gaining prominence; the conservatives dismissed it as a passing cloud that would not survive the test of time but reality as we know it is strikingly different.

In the post Dostana era, when people are more open to the idea of accepting homosexual roommates or co-workers for that matter; much good has been done for the homosexual fraternity but there seems to be trouble brewing for the singles aka 'people like myself'. Why, you ask? 

Reasons underscoring why life as we know it has become tortuous post the Dostana era for Singleton's/Singletini's 

1. You cannot call your best friend - boyfriend anymore. The word Boyfriend's exclusive copyrights now belong to the ladies and gays apparently. Despite that, if you still do use it, what ensues is a cluster of mocking innuendos with you as the central target.

2. Hugging has become taboo suddenly; even a lightning quick 1.5 second hug with a pat on the back. What was totally appropriate 3 years ago, now stands restrained or even relegated. 

3. A Handshake between 2 perfectly straight gentlemen does not last for more than 3 seconds. Any longer and either or both gentlemen will shake the other palm off them lest they come across as homosexual to each other and the world.

4. If you thought homo's are changing the socially accepted convention only for the gentlemen, think again because Female royalty also have a problem with homosexual nomenclature; because Gays are stealing away their limelight as they are also called Queens. 

5. If you thought Gays were making only single guys uncomfortable you're probably wrong. Single ladies seem to be the most affected lot because they find it difficult to tell the gay men from the straight men. Don't believe me?

Read one affected soul's heart rendering anecdote here. 

Its no surprise that the line - All desirable things in life are either illegal, banned, expensive, married to someone else or gay is among the most popular one liners of the decade gone by. 

6. A Single guy/girl above a certain cut-off age(varies from region to region) is automatically perceived to be leaning towards homosexuality under the guise of him/her being in the aforementioned state of singleness.

7. Anyone with a noticeable lisp is pronounced to be gay irrespective of the justification given by the said individual.

8. Ear piercing in men has been a regularity for sometime now; a ear piercing on the wrong side and bang, they are termed fruity.          

On a closing note, I leave you with a strikingly different perception of the homosexual conundrum.

  

  

PS: This write up is not aimed to anger or instigate any of our homosexual friends; is meant to be taken only in jest. However if any part of the write up offends you personally, please do write in. 

PS 1: What got me thinking was the absurdity behind this article:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2068810/Saudis-fear-virgins-people-turn-gay-female-drive-ban-lifted.html

What do you think are some other common misunderstandings? 

                 

Of Hot Spots and Jackpots

Recently there has been this continuous wave of blog writers taking a sabbatical from their blog writing owing to reasons ranging from paucity of time to sheer laziness to mind blocks to attend to the push and pull of their regular lives. The blog world doesn't seem the same without my Favorite Blog writers around and their regular dose of inspired writing which got me here in the first place.

Since I have no standing on matters such as Time paucity, Sheer Laziness and attending to the push and pull of their daily chores, all of which I`m sure plague the lives of these blessed souls. I thought I would write something on Writers Block to help out their case a little.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I put forth my research on situations/ hot spots wherein the creative juices flow more fluidly.

1. The Washroom -

The toilet has probably been the Butt of many jokes since its invention mainly because of the bodily functions associated with it and tending to make people squeamish talking about it. The toilet has been an integral part of the human hygiene system and is certainly no flush in the pan.      

I`m fairly certain most of us get some of our most inspired ideas while taking a shower or while using the toilet. Deny it all you may while making constipated faces, but there is solid research to prove that the most inspired ideas that have seen daylight in the history of mankind were conceived in the washroom. Many ideas and innovations ranging from the Archimedes Principle to the invention of the modern day toilet which if you must know figures on the top 10 list of the greatest inventions in history, were all achieved in washrooms.

Consider the famous Eureka moment; there lay the great Greek thinker, philosopher and mathematician   Archimedes bathing himself when it struck him that objects could be made to float  on water when they displace their own fluid weight. It could have happened to him while eating or while sleeping, nay; it struck him at that exact moment and when he ran buck naked across the streets of Sycrause yelling Eureka, Eureka, history was indeed made.

This topic also came to me in the loo but for you to fully understand the potential of the washroom and its effect on the grey juices, check out the Baap of Toilet humor - Kalpak.   

2. Exams-

Every student's nightmare,

Every parent's cause for anxiety,

An invigilator's swear zone

But an absolute idea landmine.

Honestly tell me, haven't you felt most creative during the time before an important exam or an important deadline for that matter. Even staring at a blank wall or the ceiling gives you the most creative ideas in this magical time called Exam season. Come vacation time, even though you have all the time in the world and the same wall/ceiling to stare at, the ideas just don't seem to flow as rapidly or fluidly as they did during exam season.

This just goes on to prove that We don't get what we want, when we want it.

3. Nature -

A popular haunt of many a famous thinker, it provides the necessary change up in scenario promoting the flow of thoughts and often leading to breakthroughs in the thought process. Whether it is the individual effect of the Fresh Air, Sunlight, Water or Greenery or the combined product of the aforementioned it has proven instrumental in catalyzing the flow of thoughts and is generally said to bring about a positive outcome.

4. People - 

Human beings are observers by nature, that's one of the basic tenets of Anthropology. Observing the way others behave and copying them as children and writing about how someone eats cookies dipped in plain yoghurt as bloggers; stems from the same focal point - People.

Whether it is witnessing a shrieking 4 year old getting pushed into a swimming pool to quell his fear of water or how someone mistook the contents of a finger bowl at a restaurant to be lemonade, people are a perennial source of ideas and never cease to amaze us. Conversations, observations, chats (both real and virtual) , texts, tweets, TV shows, music, movies and practically anything along these lines often serves as good fodder for ideas.   

              

5. Getting out of the Comfort Zone - 

It is said achievements both big and small occur when one treads out of one's comfort zone. So if you are plagued with a block, try some out of the ordinary stuff like taking an unplanned holiday or eating an ice-cream at -19 C ; basically something that will not get you killed or seriously injured. The out of the ordinary experience makes for apt blog writing and lets face it, there's loads of fun to be had at the same time. 

This is sometimes crucial because it helps broaden perspective, gets us out the rut and eliminates fear of acceptance plus everyone could always do with a little change up right?

What other ways do you think there are to beat the Blues?  

    

                    

       

Betrothals, Babies and Bleh

RANT ALERT

Off late, I`ve been getting mails, facebook messages, phone calls(mostly in the wee hours of the morning *curses the time difference*) and texts in the dozens informing me that someone is either getting married, engaged, committed or popping out babies.

Just imagine, when someone(read : Bestie) calls you at 3 AM to tell you :-

a) That a schoolmate has given birth to triplets while cutting your gasped reply to 'TRIPLETS???' short by

b) Informing you that another guy buddy who used to play cricket with you in his Half Knickers and Hawai chappal is getting married in 10 days.

For heavens sake I shrieked and said - I thought he was just 20 , Bestie says - turns out he was.

c) That notwithstanding, a third schoolmate whose chats often remind me of the good old kiddy days was conned into visiting his ailing grandfather on his "DEATHBED" and married off in a matter of 3 days.     

Had anyone else dared calling me at that ungodly hour with news bits like these; 5 bygone generations of their family would have been royally blessed and showered with my ability to spew out swear words faster than a high end garden sprinkler that would have surely made them toss and turn in their graves.  

What is it about November huh, is it like a Year End Sale?

Take your pick; Babies, Husbands, Wives, Boyfriends, Girlfriends, Boy/Girl Toys ---> Flat 70 % off.

HURRY,Offer Valid till stocks Last, 

*Conditions Apply.

On a more realistic note, the following picture adequately sums up what I`m going through right now.

       

The Reason

I`ve been asked time and again as to why I chose to baptize my blog - Atrocious Scribblings among a gazillion other possible names.

Well, the following Video clip is my inspiration.

On watching this clip, I thought to myself, if I ever blog on a platform I would try writing something as flamboyant(if not more) and wacky. The language is sheer brilliance no?

For the flamboyance to take shape, one does need a compelling enough name, doesn't one? Hence the obvious took place and this blog has and will be known as Atrocious Scribblings.

PS: What do you people reckon about the look of the space?