En la cabeza

It's probably like that symptom...a symptom of self destruction that exists in all of us...but often enough it's that same seed that helps one grow too. Paradoxical isn't it...like a lot of life.

I don't know what it is that draws one incessantly...with alarming regularity to bits of alternate culture that continually mock and ridicule normalcy, a sense of being stable...that stokes the feeling of not settling for what's accepted. Looking the status quo horse in the mouth and living life on terms if not of your own, then on those drawn from a melange of counter culture implosions brought about through films, music, conversations, talking with other counter culture junkies all tossed about in your head, whipping up this exotic and heady cocktail that's all consuming...

I sit here just returning from registering for my next French course, drinking in Spanish spoken in a Madrileño accent set in a movie filmed in Barcelona and now trying to make sense of these implosions listening to Julieta Venegas. I mean...what sense am I going to make? Who am I kidding? Is all this real and supposed to mean something or is one just living in a delusion, happy to ignore the immediate reality of life by surrounding oneself with abstract thoughts, aesthetic ideas and ridiculously unrealistic concepts of life?

Thought may liberate you but watch out she can also be hard to be with...hard to be without. Much like Maria Elena in Vicky Cristina Barcelona...pienso ....no...seguro que tengo que escribir desde hoy en español...un poquito...una vez la semana...cada semana. Sobre este blog. Sí.

To free or to save?

It used to be just another t-shirt slogan for me. Something akin to "just do it" but more recently I've begun to think a little more about t-shirts that say "free tibet". Do the people who wear these shirts actually understand what they are passively demanding? I have my reservations. On a related note, my complete contempt for the Communist party of India (and all their splinter groups and parties) has always been evident, none more so than now, blocking India's progress in the name of defeating "imperialism". More recently, Prakash Karat (who makes me grind my teeth in frustration everytime he spews his rubbish on TV) said that Indians must be careful about advocating "free tibet" due to simmering nationalist sentiments at home. Of course this was a speech that seemed to be scripted and faxed from Beijing but there was a grain of inadvertent truth to what he said.

Many supposedly liberal Indians vociferously put down China's human rights record in Tibet, forgetting completely our own history of suppression, intimidation and neglect of our own peoples. At a recent seminar, I was asked by a lady from Brookings, "Tell me Aaabhijeeet, what exactly is the north east of India?! Is it all one big state?" I wanted to tell her that it might as well be. The north - east is but one example of how India's development policy continues to foment trouble there.

Lets rewind to post 1947 and the States Reorganisation Act. India used force then to amalgamate the princely states. India uses force today to suppress (illegitimate?) separatist movements in the North East, not to mention Telangana. The Nagas fought for a separate homeland whereas Telangana is fighting for a separate state within India. In both cases, there are continuing examples of India using force to crush separatist sentiments. I will not quote Kashmir here as I feel its a wholly different kettle of fish.

Keeping this in mind, India and Indians need to be careful what they advocate. Carving out parts of existing nations into separate nations is almost impossible to do today. The case of Tibetans may be stronger than the case for Telangana or the Nagas but there never will be a "free" Tibet. At best there will be a region called Tibet with a chunk of the population being Tibetan. What India and Tibetans should fight for is preserving cultural identity and religious independence. Something China is loth to do and hence, China should rightly be hung out to dry in global diplomatic circles. Seen in this light, the case of Telangana, Nagas, ULFA, Bodos etc loses much credibility when contrasted with Tibet. All the former already reside in a democracy which promises to preserve their cultural identities. This situation is reversed for Tibetans in Tibet. We must switch from "free Tibet" t shirts to "Save Tibet"and that pretty much, is all we can hope for.

Italia 101

Thambi and I were talking about Italy a couple of weeks back over some Muscatel and what was still a tacit acknowledgement of reality became a superfluous no-brainer.

First built in 206 B.C., the bridge attracted lovers long ago: Tacitus, the first century Roman historian and statesman, reported that even in his time it was "famous for its nocturnal attractions." The Emperor Nero, Tacitus said, visited there "for his debaucheries." (It is also the place where in 312, Constantine defeated his rival Maxentius. He became the first emperor to convert to Christianity, which to many Italians still stands against the sort of love often found on Ponte Milvio.)

continue reading...

Specifically, Thambi told me about Tuscany and Rome. Rome...the mere whiff of the word gives me a sense of excitement. Its one among at least a 101 reasons to visit Italy. One of the centres of civilization...Italy must happen and soon.

Amsterdam-Madrid-Lisboa-Rotterdam

July 26th

One would be correct in making the assumption that there isn't a more perfect way to start or end a holiday by sipping Chardonnay from California & nibbling on blue cheese after a nice grilled red snapper. It allows you to contemplate life better.

What started off as a growing dread about the 9 hour flight home, stuck in a middle economy seat turned into a relaxing end with an upgrade to business. The front of the aircraft's where its at folks! But I'll take it from the top

July 18th Frankfurt - Amsterdam

I land at 8:30 AM local time in Frankfurt Airport, refresh myself and sit with barely suppressed excitement for the 10 AM flight, after an hour of which I will set foot again in that most beloved of countries. I pray that my flight isn't delayed and that the weather in Amsterdam holds up. Rain would not be the best companion for my 5 hours there. Lufthansa doesn't disappoint and I land at Schiphol at 11 AM sharp. The approach into Schiphol is spectacular as always. The sun shines a pale but warm light and the Zuider Zee sparkles in response. My heart does a little overtime. By 11:30, I have put my suitcase in a locker and am on a train to Amsterdam Centraal. As the train exits the Schiphol tunnel, I am welcomed to the Netherlands with a blast of sunlight and flowers as the inexplicably flat and green countryside falls away behind me. Chris Martin croons "Amsterdam" in my ears and I hope the stunningly pretty Dutch girl opposite my seat is not startled by the wide grin on my face. Out of the train and immediately the harbour catches my sight...memories of AIESEC International team days. Now I'm already laughing out loud in joy...sheer joy pure and simple. I have myself a pecan broodje and chocomel before stepping out to find a tram. I get lucky ( Lady Luck rode on my shoulder throughout these 9 days) with the 1st tram I find which takes me to Leidseplein.

Immediately you're struck by how vibrant and diverse this place is: hundreds of bicycles, guys on skate boards, girls on roller blades, a smart car being passed by an electric handicap vehicle, cafés already abuzz with summer, street musicians doing their thing...boats floating by in the canals. I almost leap out at Leidseplein: its bright, warm and one of the best summer days in Amsterdam.

I walk stright to the Bulldog and soak in the atmosphere and around the square: a group what can only be students laugh and joke while one of them wearing a red tee with " ART" and "LISBOA" on it rolls.

2 girls walk in and ask if they can smoke outside, then lend paper to a guy at the next table. The waitress clears my table with a typical Dutch flourish: a wink and a smile. Already barely an hour into coming back here after 3 years I am in love all over again. I hang around Leidseplein another half hour before walking one of my favourite stretches: down following the tram tracks all the way back to Centraal Station. I pass many familiar and loved places...Dam Square is simply spectacular.

The sun beating down happy laughing faces music and frittes all around. After much wandering I make it back to the falafel store outside the station, have my fill and head back to Schiphol: Amsterdam is the same. Something that's always there, something reassuring, always fresh.

First little hiccup, my flight to Madrid is delayed by 3 hours. Schiphol's cafés provide some relief and I land at Madrid at 10 PM, 2 hours later than expected. It might seem strange to some people to hear that when I landed for the first time in Spain, the person greeting me at the airport was a close friend who himself had never been there. But then we're used to meeting great friends in the most unlikely of places. A grinning Rohit Sathe and I exchange hugs & loud greetings. Needless to say, mine are in Spanish. Before we realise, we are outside toasting our first beer in Spain.

While we drink our first beer in Spain, Sathe’s lovely Singaporean girl Carol lands. We greet her and then proceed to our rockstar Portuguese friend who has agreed to give us shelter during our stay in Madrid. At the ticket counter for the Metro, my first confrontation with a Spanish native speaker in Spain no less. The words come out almost by themselves, “Hola, Diez viajes por favor para tres personas”

I walk away with the tickets and a big smile. This is going to be fun. We get to Santiago Bernabéu without any trouble and outside the metro on the street, the first sight we see is the Bernabéu: the home of Real Madrid. Even for those who aren’t football lovers it brings a certain sense of awe. But its dark and we have to get to Nuno’s house. “Hola señora dondé esta el paseo de la habana…el numero cincuenta y cuatro?”, I understand her directions easy and we crash at Nuno’s.

July 19th Madrid

Nuno’s given us the basic “what to do in Madrid” guide the previous night. We have names, metro stops and a map. Madrid is bathed in sunlight. We head out by 12 straight for Puerta del Sol or just Sol, as its called here. Walking around Sol and Gran Vía, you don’t get a sense of history and culture like you do strolling around many European cities. You sense a certain something but can’t put your finger on it. We walk around, sit by roadside cafés, Sathe & I go buy a ring (go figure). Yet Madrid doesn’t seem to be doing what I thought Madrid would do.

My greatest delight is using my Spanish the best I can, asking, questioning and understanding the Castellanos’ rapid speech. We go to the the area of Madrid called La Latina around 3:30 only to find most of the cafés shut: siesta time in España. We find a decent place for some jamón y queso bocadillos (the jamón Iberico is out of this world) and stumble back home: tired and needing some rest.

Nuno gets home by 8 and we prepare to head out: Madrid by night. As we walk the avenues, suddenly it seems like the city has transformed. Cafés are buzzing, people are spilling out onto the streets, young Madrileños are laughing, drinking and dancing. We head to the hip and happening district of Madrid called Tribunal. Nuno says he knows this great tapas place: Lateral (please pronounce it right-laa-te-raal)

Already, its quite clear that Madrid has the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in one city. The fact that they’re all talking in a sweet language I understand some of, almost makes me believe this is what heaven might be like. The camarero takes our order: jamón tapas, gambas, queso con pan, some more jamón for good measure and dulce de leche, all washed down with a pitcher of the best Sangria I’ve ever had. The food is beyond measure, the atmosphere is fantastic. We then head to a bar called La Vía Lactea (the milky way), a cool underground-ish dim lit bar with 50’s and 60’s movie posters all around and other very alternative design, low roof and packed with Madrileños.

After a couple of Mahou’s we head to “El Junco”: a live jazz band, the crowd older, better dressed, with a nice sophisticated touch. I’m glad I dressed decently. The band is good…very good. The crowd knowledgeable and enthusiastic. We get back home well past 2: Madrid is to experienced by night. Truly Madrid in the night is something one has to experience to understand.

July 20th

I wake up bright and early (well ok 10 AM) and head straight to the Real Madrid stadium for the Bernabéu tour. One hour flies by as I soak in the stadium, the pitch, the player dug outs and the history.

I have 5 minutes to spend in the store. The store is 3 floors high and huge. I curse myself, grab a tee and promise to be back on my way out of Madrid. I rush back home to meet Sathe and Carol. We meet Nuno and his colleague Leonor (cool Portuguese girl) and we drive off in our spanking Audi A 3: destination Lisboa.

Lisboa

We pull into our hotel at Lisboa and suddenly there’s an explosion of greetings, familiar faces, hugs, 2 kisses, 3 kisses Dutch style and more hugs. Before one can say “salud”, there’s 15 of us in the hotel lobby / bar drinking Sagres and planning the night’s activities. We decide to head to Dockas, (pronounced Dokesh) which is a bar lined street under the main bridge at Lisboa. Many more friends are met there and after dinner and catching up, the party begins. Caipirinhas, Port wine, shots, Sagres…they all blend into one. We return to our hotel at 4 AM.

The Wedding

Gonçalo and Andreia, two dear friends exchange vows in a lovely church outside Lisboa. The ceremony is simple and after much cheering we head to the villa / hotel which is the location for the post ceremony celebrations. It’s a sprawling house with lawns, benches, white tents, flowers all around…fairytale like setting. The entire day from 1 PM is spent eating, drinking and celebrating. The food is delicious and never seems to stop, the drink is the same. There’s a sit down lunch for 3 hours where the bride and groom acknowledge each table and their guests, talk about interesting titbits in their relationship and subject themselves to scandalous questions from the AIESEC guests present.

The wedding is simply put a fairy tale. We head back to our hotel rooms at 2 AM.

July 22^nd Lisboa

Sathe, Carol, Kshama, Thambi and I drive to Cabo da Roca: easily the most beautiful place I have visited yet. Cabo da Roca is the westernmost point of continental Europe. All you see is deep blue and greenish Atlantic Ocean. Thinking about where you are at that point on the map gives you a slight tingle.

Champagne was in order as Sathe proposed and Carol said yes. We’d bought the ring in Madrid together and it was a pretty special moment.

July 23rd Rotterdam

Landing in Schiphol from Madrid, it was dark, damp and rainy. I resigned myself to 2 days in Rotterdam with the rain and cold. Found Thambi’s new place near Oostplein by 11, ate Indian food (from favourite Indian restaurant called India Paradise) and slept. Rotterdam woke me up at 11 AM the next day, the sun shining bright, Willemsbrug and Erasmus brug reflecting the sun. I walked all around the Coolsingel area and soaked in Rotterdam. Some places always feel like home and this is one of those. I am glad that has not changed at all. Visiting Hofdijk and Teilingerstraat was special and can’t really be explained. Hofdijk is where I lived for a year and Teilingerstraat where I worked, when at AIESEC International. Dinner at Oude Haven (old harbour) was great. Ah nostalgia!

The next day, I borrowed Thambi’s bicycle and cycled to Kraalingse Lake and park. I spent the better part of the day there, visiting the deer park, at the beach, under a big oak tree, lots of cycling, coffee, windmills, pancakes and broodjes.

The perfect finish to the holiday. I made my connection to Frankfurt the next day and you may recall I travelled back to namma Bengalooru in fine fashion. Europe is a constant. In a world of uncertainty, strife, pollution, suspicion and cold, Spain Portugal and Holland shows us what its like…what it can be if people are friendly and just want to live life, not caring about ideologies…the main aim being to enjoy life and live it to the fullest. I liken it to Rivendell, one of the last refuges we know. I’m glad I was able to reconnect with the Netherlands, to be reassured that its still home and that it’s always there when I want to go back to it.

For pictures you can visit my facebook page. My user name is " Abhi Mehta" or for a limited screening of the photos you can visit http://www.flickr.com/photos/abhimehta

Until next time Tot Ziens!

Rare

I recently saw what I think is one of the most influential (for me) 2 hours of audio visual footage. Joan Baez, Martin Luther King Jr., Woody Guthrie & Johnny Cash serve but to accentuate the genius that will forever be Bob Dylan.

No Direction Home is a treasure I shall gift to the people who I think will see it the same way I did, to those in need of or seeking inspiration, to impressionable young minds, to anyone wanting to learn about how they could probably lead their lives.

There are many, many recountable scenes & moments from the film. One of them that struck me was a photograph (black & white of course) of a very young Dylan (probably around 25 years or so) standing next to a poster as tall as himself, that said "Fight against the rising tide of conformity"

He saw it back then...before most people did. Most people actually still don't. Watch the film.

Sueños...

I spent an entire day at Jawaharlal Nehru University's School of Language & Culture studies in Delhi on Friday last. I was there for my D.E.L.E (spanish) exam which didn't go as well as I had hoped but at least I know where I am now in a sense. However, the great thing about the day was being surrounded almost entirely by 30 odd students all speaking with each other only in Spanish the whole day. I had more conversations in Spanish in a day than I have had in almost 1 year of studying! By the end of the day, I was feeling much better for having been able to converse without any practice earlier but also feeling wholly inadequate due to my woeful vocabulary.

The feeling of sharing thoughts, emotions and experiences in a foreign language for this short a time made me wistfully think of what it will be like if and when I finally live for a short time in a Spanish speaking country. If I ever do that...I don't think I'll have to study to take the D.E.LE....

Contradiction

Pandara road, Saket, PVR, momos, Harichutney.com, Kalkaji, The big chill, Bikaner house, Turtle Café, TC, Buzz, late night conversations, mellow, music, family, laughter, warmth, Nirula's, Zaika...this is my Delhi.

Ocimum basilicum

It is a tender low-growing herb that is grown as a perennial in warm, tropical climates. It is originally native to India and other tropical regions of Asia having been cultivated there for more than 5,000 years. It is prominently featured in varied cuisines throughout the world including Italian, Thai, Vietnamese and Laotian

So imagine my delight when I stopped by Namdhari's (chic, organic vegetable & fruit store) today on my way to work just on the off chance that they may have some interesting & fresh herbs and to my absolute delight, I found neatly stacked and fresh little bundles of Italian basil, parsley, rosemary, thyme, sage and oregano! I spent ten minutes just sniffing and admiring all the herbs, thus drawing dubious looks from the man at the counter. I left with 2 bundles of fresh Italian basil.

Pesto alla genovese in its classic basic form has Genoese basil, salt, garlic, extra virgin olive oil and Pecorino Sardo cheese. Many variants have been elaborated within the genoese cuisine by adding extra ingredients like pine nuts, walnuts and curd or ricotta cheese. Parmesan cheese or Pecorino Romano cheese can be used instead of the pecorino sardo cheese.

Ah joy!

Cross posted on World Café

We are like this only

My Government is totally against imparting sex education. The Government is against aping Western culture in the school syllabus. Sex education does not go well with our country's culture and traditions

And since I hadn't ground my teeth in frustration for a couple of days, our beloved, charismatic & iconic Chief Minister Mr. H.D Kumaraswamy had the above to say yesterday as a reaction to the central Government's directive to impart sex education to school children. I didn't vote for the gent mainly because I wasn't in the city then and am not likely to vote for him or the travesty to democracy that his coalition represents, in the future. And if we were to trace back to how the honorable gent came to power, we will see that it really is HIS government and not the people's.

But that's besides the point. Obviously Mr. HDK is oblivious to 1.2 billion people living in the same country he does, not to mention Khajuraho or Bollywood. And of course he doesn't read...I mean the Times of India that is. So we are all children of God and were brought into this world by way of immaculate conceptions or severe "yajnas" (rituals) & penances performed before Agni, Vishnu, Shiva and the hundreds of other Hindu gods. How dare you say we have sex to procreate??! Preposterous...

And interestingly...Mallya Aditi Int'l school ( an ultra chic premier unaffordable-for-most institution) offers sex education as part of an integrated life skills curriculum that includes conflict management, health & hygiene. The divide is only on the increase & I can feel but pity for some poor (literally) kid from a government school who'll contract AIDS because he or she had no idea what a condom was. I think its time to see that "free hugs" video again, dream sweet Netherlands dreams and go to sleep.

World Café

This was long overdue and its finally here. A blog on food from around the world, my experiences in cooking it, sharing ideas & recipes and other joys in the journey to constantly improve my culinary skills.