All about Rosè

There are many varities of wine. Some sweet, some sour, some just plain brilliant. Rose is one of the varieties and I won't go into how it is made or how it is served or bla bla.. All I want to talk about is my experience with Rose champagne(Champagne is the drink that fizzes all over, Schumaker loves spraying it around). Patra and I had a debate over whether there can be a rose champagne.

Somehow my experience has been limited to Brut and Demi sec which are both White wine varities of Champagne. I proceeded to vehemently argue the case against Rose champagne. Patra was more open minded and raised the intellectually creative question of why a rose variety can't exist. I came back with "If it is indeed possible, somebody would have thought of it". And the issue was laid to rest.

Until I went to the supermarket the other day and saw a row full of Rose champagnes just sitting there. I am the cat and curiosity got the better of me. I remember waking up the next morning expecting to have a terrible hangover, but guess what, Rose and champagne love each other... :) :)

cycle tracks

The abundance of cycle tracks around Europe never ceases to amaze me. A cycle here, a cycle there, they got cycles everywhere... :P :P

The Europeans are serious when they talk about Euro norms and controlling the pollution, though it's a lot cheaper to not have a car.. :) :)

All hail hail

It started with a gentle pitter patter. The kind that warms your heart and makes you feel like pulling your leg up and letting your body sink into the sofa. Claps of thunder rang across the sky. Hmmmm... perfect. By now I was snuggled in nice and comfortable. Slowly, every muscle in my body relaxed and I started slipping into a dreamy state. I started picturing a rainy day back at home, with khichdi and pakodas. Vicky (my dog) would really be enjoying his siesta. Somehow, the day would be a weekend and dad would be at home too. I would constantly be pestering bahadur to teach me how to make a paper boat.Perfect...That warm, cozy feeling was complete now. Nothing could shake me now... not even the constant loud roar outside. Hmmm...??? the question did creep into the back of my head. What was that noise?
I gave in finally and peeked out the window. What a spectacle did I behold...!!!!! Hail Hail everywhere...!!! It looked like a white sheet of ice had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. I ran out, got pummelled and picked up little ice bits till my hands hurt. All the while it never occured to me that I was proving to be quite an oddity. While normal people ran for cover, I was the psyche job who was prancing around in the zero degree rain collecting hail stones. The stones kept melting but there were so many more...

Patra Series II - Yentraa Patra

Patra likes having casual encounters with cheery anglo saxons. They talk the same language as us, and believe me,that is a LOT in common. Sometimes the anglo saxons turn out to be not quite that pedigree and have their lineage in the subcontinent. When these anglicized Indians meet Patra a lot of feelings bubble up within them and overflow in a giant volcano. In short, a UK desi said something to Patra.....

UK desi( beaming smile, approaches Patra ) : "Telegu aaaaa ???"
( hand over my mouth )
( cannot suppress laughter )
me: "Hohoho...!!!!! Hahahahaa....!!!!!"
( Pale white Patra )
( Still smiling UK desi )

Our wing is finally complete in all cultural diversity. Our very own Gult.

Arbeit Macht Frei

"Work will set you free"

The Nazis were a cruel lot. Hoarding people up like cattle and putting them in work camps gave them their necessary sense of superiority. But it didn't stop at that. They needed constant symbolism of their power over others.
The first thing that prisoners arriving at the concentration camp saw were the words "Arbeit Macht Frei" meaning "Work will set you free". Oh! that sense of humor, can't get over it.

Patra Series I - The smelly socks affair

Walking around for days without taking off your shoes does tend to make your feet a bit smelly. Well our man Patra did something extraordinary that is well worth a blog. There are many places where you can remove your shoes like for eg on a park bench, by the river side or in the comfort of your private quarters. A German AC bus is not one of them.
I don't kniw whether it was a pact or not but Patra and the Italian next to him decide to De-Apparel( no better phrase, sorry )at the same time. Well you can imagine what happened next. Billions of billions of molecules started bouncing around the bus in perfect elastic collisions carrying with them the aroma of all the places to where patra had been. That it was an AC bus ensured that not a single fellow was lost. Then, things got a little out of hand.
The bus driver stopped the bus.
He got off his seat.
Walked in the direction of Patra.
Sniffed around.
Shouted at the Italian.
Turned the AC on full blow.
Walked back.
Everyone stared at the Italian scornfully.

One thing is for sure. Our bhagvan ji ki darshan is certainly paying off...

The Great Escape

Dare to escape ?
Well this was no ordinary penitentiary. It was the infamous dachau concentartion camp. Probably not as infamous as its bigger cousin, Auschwitz, where they mercilessly gassed thousands of jews, gypsies and commmies alike. Dachau was all ready to do murder enmasse but the Americans arrived in time.

So, how does one escape from this facility. Well you needed the standard escape kit.
Contents of the kit.
1. Compelling reason to escape - Life vs Death ..
2. Daring plan - digging underground tunnels perhaps
3. some strength - if you could steal a few breads from ur fellow jew
4. Whole lot of guts - definitely

So, doesnt sound very difficult. But NO. Only ONE guy escaped..!!!! and that too during the initial years of the camp around 1933.
You were broken down mentally, physically and emotionally at Dachau.

So your dreams of a Great Escape would remain as dreams.

The End

This is the end, beautiful friend
This is the end, my only friend
The end of our elaborate plans
The end of ev'rything that stands
The end

Tucked away in a small grave in a large cemetary. Virtually unknown. No major epitaph. No fancy grafiti. Nothing as grand and eclectic as the man who lies beneath. I had the honor of paying my respects to the man, the legend.

A Tribute to one of the greatest men of our times - Jim Morrison

WINDFALL...!!!!!

I don't believe it...!!!!

My daily fortune on the orkut page said that I will come into a large inheritance. and the thing is I did .. !!!
Someone in the laundry room had left a Box full of stuff saying "Take what you please ... !!!!" ....
At first I thought it would be some junk. But NO. It was an absolute treasure trove...!!!! Full of amazing stuff to eat.

Honey, Chocolate Sauce, Jams, basil, herbs, bolougniase sauce, other sauces, different types of coffee, Olive oil, the entire works...!!!!
and lurking just behind the Marmalade, was a jar full of my favourite NUTELLA .. !!!!

Reichstag

The Reichstag in Berlin is the German equivalent of the Parliament in New Delhi. Or is it ?
In both places politicians sit and hanker over the pettiest of issues. The parliament has its own idiosyncracies like chair throwing and fun riots to break the monotony. Likewise, the Reichstag has its own idiosyncracy too. When the politicians are tired of bickering with each other, they just look up. And who do they see? Looking down upon them are the people. Certainly helps put things in perspective.

The story of Knut the polar bear

There has been plenty of hype around Knut the polar bear. A brief introduction about Knut is in order. He was born in the Berlin zoo and rejected by his mother for unknown reasons. He grew up in captivity past infancy ,became a celebrity and the zoo earned truckloads of money of his accord. One look at him and it's obvious what shot him to stardom. There is a corner inside every human being that Knut manages to touch and we go "Awwwww....." . The thing is, he is one and a half years old now. A big shaggy polar bear and getting increasingly less cute day by day. But people still remember him as Knut, the polar bear that was cute. How peculiar, that stardom in the animal kingdom fades with age too.

Chaos Theory

No.I am not referring to the butterfly effect. Nor am I making some abstruse allusion to Marshall and Lily's 'Olive theory'. None of that, sorry. It's simply an observation I have made off late that I have so arrogantly dubbed as a theory.
The theory essentially goes like this : "People DESIRE chaos"

It's not very apparent when you observe that mothers have a penchant for keeping homes neat and clean. Don't be deluded by this apparent aberration. The truth will not be revealed if you only scratch the surface, you need to dig deeper. Order and chaos have forever been battling for our attention though chaos always wins the war(Second Law of Thermodynamics). Nevertheless, why we choose one over the other at a given instant of time is very subjective. It depends on the context of the choice.
People choose order more out of necessity. It's good to find your car keys on top of the fridge every morning. It's good if there is no traffic on the way to work. It's good if things are just right. Just the way you planned them to be. That's because people think of the long run. Putting the keys in the right place tonight so that you can find them tomorrow morning is planning ahead. But if you start thinking of now and now alone, a lot of perspectives will change. The thrill of doing something chaotic, something rebellious is just too strong. I can describe Order as someone you get married to whereas Chaos is your paramour.

I had an interesting encounter with a young French guy. He was very happy to meet me, an Indian. He had been on an exchange program to IIM Calcutta. So I asked him what was the best thing he liked about Kolkata? His eyes glazed over as he recalled the fondest of his memories. He said, "Ze Chaos".

Rude Awakenings

The Night train from Berlin to Paris is a lot like our Indian trains. There are cubicles for 6 people to sit. Those of you who have seen Eurotrip will recognize it as the one where Mr 'Miscuzzi' gets in. So in my cubicle there were only two people apart from me. A white French girl and a white Brazilian boy. There is a reason why I mention 'white' which will soon become apparent. The ticket checker had already come by and it was getting late. So we switched off the lights and drew the blinds. It had been a long day and I immediately fell sleep. Sometime in the middle of the night, I was rudely awakened when a man walked into our cubicle and switched on the lights. It was guy from the 'Polizei' and he was asking us for our passports. He checked mine first and for the other two he just waved his hand and said "It's ok" and summarily left.
All done and I was ready to go back to sleep when I notice that the others were staring at me. The Brazilian looks at the French girl and says "I can't believe he just did that..!!" and then continues looking at me with a mixture of concern and disgust. But what did I do? The French girl then says "It's just not fair, this is discrimination". Then slowly it dawns on me that they were referring to the policeman. Sometimes you need foreigners to give you a rude awakening.

Homeless

Majestic creatures should roam free. They command a respect that we humans are only obliged to fulfill. One look at this melancholy polar bear broke my heart. Looking at the world from behind a glass window begging to be taken away. All the little kids with their mums and dads pass by on the other side of the glass window. All he wants is a family that he can call his own. Not too much to ask for is it ?
A simple family ... that's all. Please take him away.

Le Pain

'Pain' is bread in French, so as to clear all misconceptions. Pronounced as 'Paaaç' with a nasal intonation at the end.

Sitting next to me in the train was this old lady. The rich and sophisiticated types. She was dressed tip top and wore white gloves. The kind that golfers have. She emanated an air of aristocracy. I tried very hard not to look her way, but my eyes kept straying and I continued gazing upon her with awe. Then she took out this white handbag. Written on its side were the words 'GUCCI', the sides of which glistened with every motion. At this point I had shed all remnants of decency and was gaping at her without shame. Out from her bag came this object wrapped in white paper. Her hands(covered with white gloves) slowly unwrapped a piece of bread. She tore it from the side. I watched her chew the dry piece of bread. She did this again and again. No topping nothing. One dry piece of bread after another. I felt like I was peering into her life through a telescope. Dry, cold and emotionless.

Leaving On A Jet Plane

All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go
I'm standin' here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye

But the dawn is breakin', it's early morn
The taxi's waitin', he's blowin' his horn
Already I'm so lonesome I could die

So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go

'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane
I don't know when I'll be back again
Oh, babe, I hate to go

There's so many times I've let you down
So many times I've played around
I'll tell you now, they don't mean a thing

Every place I go, I think of you
Every song I sing, I sing for you
When I come back I'll wear your wedding ring

So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go

'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane
I don't know when I'll be back again
Oh, babe, I hate to go

Now the time has come to leave you
One more time, oh, let me kiss you
And close your eyes and I'll be on my way

Dream about the days to come
When I won't have to leave alone
About the times that I won't have to say ...

Oh, kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go

'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane
I don't know when I'll be back again
Oh, babe, I hate to go

And I'm leaving on a jet plane
I don't know when I'll be back again
Oh, babe, I hate to go

Edge of the world

Standing at the edge of Europe. With the vast expanse of the Atlantic ocean behind me made me think of Douglas Adams and Lord Krishna. Queer combination. Let me explain. Yashoda had the celestial vision after looking into Krishna's mouth. Zaphod Beeblebrox survived the machine that showed him the entire universe. Like them, I too couldn't help but ponder about my place in the world. It's not very pleasant to feel tiny. A microscopic speck in this huge world. It's not just the open spaces that bothered me but the fact that time is fleeting. The Subhodeep of this moment is not the Subhodeep of the next.

Red

"I was in no mood to move over. I love days like this. Rainy, dark and during that part of the monsoon where the rain is not a novelty. It just pours and pours as if to prove a point. I heard the school bus in the morning which means that there is still a good two hours to go before that brat comes back and starts tossing me around.
Oh won't she just shut up!! The old witch. Why doesnt she get it, I'm not moving, period.
............
............
Now she's crying. Disgusting.
............
............
I wonder what her problem is ? I just hope that she doesnt expect me to cuddle up to her and comfort her. I am in absolutely no mood to participate in all that drama. It's a different issue when I'm hungry.
............
............
...**Cough..**Cough***...
Damn Bird.
............
............
"

Apparely Cross

My god what do they come up with ??? So while Patra and I were randomly roaming around Monaco we came across this little marvel. A crossword shoe or a shoe crossword ? The proud owner of this might be a little frustrated though. Crossword but no clues. Ouch that hurts. And even if the clues were there would he actually fill in the boxes? I wouldn't. It's too pretty.

P.S. Sorry, Dish. Had it been about €60 cheaper it would have been all yours... :( :(

Pop health

Slimming, Weightloss, Low Cal, Diet Coke, Atkins Diet, 10 min workouts, tummy trimmer, sauna baths, liposuction, etc etc...What people wouldn't do for the perfect figure.

"Hey Anil, I didn't expect to see you at the gym."
"Been working on that 6 pack. Soon King Khan will be coming to me for advice... ha ha ha... !!!"

"Would you like some cake, dear ?"
"No thanks aunty, got to watch out for those nasty carbs you know..."
"Oh yes dear, I understand"

Ring a Bell? All too familiar snippets of chit chat?

I find that the 'fitness' part is missing for some reason. Somehow trimming down, looking beautiful, muscling up, etc seem to occupy the limelight. And if these primary motives are met maybe you become fit as a spinoff. An added advantage so to say. But, shouldn't all these ethereal things be added advantages from becoming fit. Isn't fitness the driving criteria ?