Remember Shakti: Giriraja Sudha

A tune composed over a 100 years ago is still incredible to hear in a new avatar. What a set of musicians these guys are.

Soy Feliz

I don't see myself as hardworking. I've always regretted that I was unable to put in that extra mile or bring forth more application in my academics, the sport I played or even in a couple of jobs I've had in the past. Things have always seemed to come easy for me in some aspects and in others, I truly believe I got plain lucky. So although hardwork was part of the scheme of things, If I was to draw a pie chart with the factors that contributed to say, me playing cricket or me clearing exams without too much studying, I would put down the "hardwork" factor at a very low percentage. I had it easy or I got lucky.

An entire day spent at JNU in Delhi this May, being tested in 5 sections of Spanish left me tired and bittersweet. I was one among 30 others writing the exam. Most of them were students from JNU in their 2nd year of their bachelors in Spanish! They were actually studying 3 years of just Spanish and this was the exam they were taking in the 2nd year of their course. I could only smile when I learnt this and snigger a little in a "sour grapes" kind of way hearing these 19 - 20 year olds chatter away in perfect but accented Spanish and then suddenly switch between the kind of English & Hindi mix only privileged, young Delhi-ites talk and then switch to Spanish again. I will admit, it grated on me. It grated a lot. And it magnified the futility of me being there.

Which is what makes this a lot sweeter. A whole lot sweeter. In fact, out of all the little prizes and recognitions I've managed to wrangle over the years, this one will sit on top of them all. The honey-laced cherry on top of the cake. I first enrolled in a Spanish course in April 2005. It took me 2 years to get to a level where I could write the D.E.L.E exam. Missing writing it in November last year left me really bitter and having to write it in May without any classes for over 8 months left me deflated at the enormity of the task. I admit that I had some aptitude in picking up the language which helped in the self learning I did before the exam. But attributing this success to talent, aptitude or luck would be doing myself a disservice. For the first time in a long time, I worked hard, long and for days, weeks, months on end. And it feels great. All those preachy types who say there isn't a substitute for hard work may have a point after all it would seem eh? But for now I think I'll just enjoy this moment for a while. I've already decided to take the next level. And for those who're wondering what this is all about, I had written about my international standards Spanish examination some months ago here and here.

I received the results a few days back and to my utter and complete delight, I cleared it with an 80 / 100 and I now have a level 1 diploma in Spanish as a foreign language. The exam is conducted by the Cervantes Institute and the results are taken in the same vein as the popular TOEFL exam for English.

I'm over the moon. And then some.

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.)

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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!