Vietnam Diaries #2: "This guys grows his own food"

L: "You know what, he grew this in his room"
J: "Haha. You are joking"
L: "NOOOooooo"
J: "Ohhhhh. Really?"
L: "Yessss"
J: "I hope it is not something illegal like Marijuana"

The guy who grows his own food is me, and this conversation happened between my team-mates - none of who belong to India, and were aware of this 'food'.

The first time I brought it to the office to eat, no one was ready to believe that I grew it myself. 

"Like, you GREW this in your ROOM?"
"You must be kidding"
"Man, you are like a farmer, growing his own food"

L was so intrigued that she took pictures and sent it to her friends saying that this crazy guys grows his own food and brings it to eat in the office. So cool!

Back came the responses saying

"You are kidding!"
"This guy belongs to like our grandparent's generation!"
"Are you serious?"
"What is this thing?"
"Can he also grow other vegetables also in his room?"

The American and Vietnamese in the team refused to even taste even a morsel, while other Asians acted bold and ventured to taste it (and found it pretty nice!)

To say the least I am VERY surprised. You too will be when I say that the food is just bean sprouts. I got the green beans (moong) from home - when in hotel, I soak moong in water to make it sprout. Voila. I am a farmer in eyes of my team mate.

A part of the confusion came from the fact that in this part of the world (South East Asia) the sprouts are eaten when fully grown, that is when the bean totally disappears and only the sprout remains. I never knew that the sprouts can be grown so long! And they never knew that it can be grown so short.

So much for diversity :D. Next time I think I will grow black gram as well.

Vietnam Diaries #1: Mysterious Death, of my virtual Pet

"It feels great to solve one of the mysteries you think you will never find an answer to…!!!"
     - Me, exclaiming after solving the mystery

Having a team at work with people from Thailand, Singapore, Malaysia (and India!), who have trotted around the world for studying or while working creates a fabulous environment. There is constant commotion, a buzz - as ideas are exchanged and anecdotes shared about things and places, facts and figures, religion and politics, and life of common people. This fine day the discussion was revolving around some pet one of my colleagues wanted to pet. I found it pretty funny because the pet was a Moss! But, well, it is a technically a pet as you have to feed it, take care of it, and it grows at some 20mm per year. Looking at my 'this is ridiculous' expression, L mentioned that this is at least better that Tamagotchi which was a rage during her childhood days. 

"Tama-whatta?", I had never heard of it. And what do you mean by virtual pet!

Everyone else in the room perked up - this famous virtual pet - originated in Japan, widely popular in China, South East Asia - apparently never reached in India. I couldn't believe my ears when I was told that a virtual pet was a simple gaming console with 3 buttons - it had to constantly fed, bathed, taken care of when it was sick bla bla through those 3 buttons, and if you don't take care of it - it died (and like in real life - no second chances!). People would compete on who's Tama lived for how long. And you can also marry 2 Tamas and have children and so on ... da da da.

I was still laughing at how funny this all sounds when I saw the picture of this Tama thing. It looks like this:

So far so good, and the topic moved on to me recounting the AOE days, and how today it is all DOTA when something suddenly clicked in my mind. I announced it aloud - 

"wow, that's it - I am sure this is it. Oh, man I can't believe it. Is it really it...", I couldn't believe this was happening. I couldn't believe that this mystery that I have been carrying around in neuron connection of my brain, this mystery is finally seeing the light of the day. That too without any conscious efforts. As if Waston had once thought about DNA's structure and then one day after several years - the right answer suddenly clicked him! 

Even though I never made a conscious effort to solve this in last 16 years, 16 years ago it had baffled me so much that I still have vivid memories of it.

"When was Jurassic Park released?"
"1993"
"When was this Tama thing invented"
"1996"
"Dude. I think I know now"

And I ran to my desk and started googling for images until I found this.

What odds that I found this picture because, this 1997 model is rare, and in around 400-500 pictures I browsed - there's just one picture of this Jurassic Park Tama (btw, this one is up for sale!)

I HAD THIS. I HAD THIS WHEN I WAS A CHILD. EXACTLY THIS ONE.
All ends quickly tied in: It was a gift from a Japanese chap. Little did he know that I don't know what the heck this toy is, little did I know that he did not know that I did not know what the heck this toy is. I tried playing it with several times. I thought it was some game where some chap would run around jungle trying to get away from dinosaurs and all that, but nothing like that happened. After trying to endless use the keys, and failing to figure out what these keys do - I let the toy be, thinking I will return to it sometime later. I did try playing it after some time, but it wouldn't work. I asked everyone around why - no one knew - after its death I carried it around for some 5-6 years hoping for a miracle, which obviously didn't happen until today.

I was a kid then, I did not know that pets once dead can't be resurrected. Even though they are virtual pets.

Though I doubt I would have played with this after someone would have explained me what this game was! Though gaming is a peer effect I guess.

"Imagine how much time you saved during your childhood which you would have instead wasted on this", L pointed out. True that!

When I recounted this incident to a friend, prompt came the reply: "Oh, so Farmville replaced this toy. Wow!"

Being Strawless

"So how did people drink coconut water when there were no straws?", quizzed the curious-as-usual N while sipping coconut water. 

"Nice. This question has struck me several times as well.", I jumped in. "I think people would have drunk directly from the coconut - but it looks difficult! Or they might have emptied this into a glass or something! That time, they must have had it only at home and not on roadsides." I eagerly emptied my wisdom.

We nevertheless decided to check the facts with the rustic man who was selling coconut water.

"Aise hi pite the" [people used to drink it directly from the coconut] he replied with a shy smile.

Given we were in a small coastal village in Maharashtra - we had little inhibition in trying out the straw less way; the next second both of us were enjoying our respective coconut water sans our straws.

To our amazement - not even a single drop spilled. And believe me - the water tasted even better. I think it was because we could not only smell the fresh coconut but also taste some bit of it while drinking the water. It was an amazing experience.

For the rest of the trip, whenever we drank coconut water we proudly told the vendor "Straw nahi cahiye" [No straw needed] and smiled widely as a little surprised spread over his face.

I am drinking coconut water the straw less from now on. Are you willing to give it a try?

Which road do I travel on?

Led Zepp goes like

"Yes, there are 2 paths you can go by, but in the long run

There's still time to change the road you're on"

While dear Mr. Frost prods on

"TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,   
And sorry I could not travel both...

...Oh, I kept the first for another day!    s
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,   
I doubted if I should ever come back."

Reads both, sighs and says the traveler in me:

"I stood on a path

forking in several paths

Looked all equally green

holding promises of unfulfilled dreams

But none showed themselves for too long

And mysterious were their songs

I stood long, looked far and deep

and then I took the leap

I took the path

caring not for where its destination lay

for paths will cross and fork again

but for what felt more enjoyable to travel that day

and that's all the traveler in me cares for"

p.s. Led zep in his Stairway to Heaven; Robert Frost in his The Road not Taken

p.p.s The traveler in me doesn't get its hands on the steering all the time

p.p.p.s If your mind forces you to read the entire post with Jimmy Page guitar in the background, and makes you sing the poems as if they are a part of the song - you're not the only one!

--  Edit --

Someone pointed out to me that Rebecca Black is also suffering from the same dilemma. 

"Kickin’ in the front seat

Sittin’ in the back seat

Gotta make my mind up

Which seat can I take?"

I can see Robert Frost banging his head against the lovely, dark and deep woods. RIP

There and back again!

"If anything had to be done, it would have to be done by Mr. Baggins, alone and unaided"
- J.R.R. Tolkien, Hobbit

After you have racked up a decent collection of 20 odd books in your small shelf or library, whatever you might want to call it: it feels great to pick up a random book, at a random moment, say just before sleeping, flip pages, read some of the lines you had underlined when reading it for the first time, land at a perfect quote which mirrors your momentary thoughts or makes you remember something you were thinking about, brings a smile or the associated emotion on your face; after which you snuggle in the bed and sleep a night of peace...

"One day nosing and wandering about, Bilbo discovered a very interesting thing..."

And okay, the last one for the day

"No dragon can resist the fascination of riddling talk and of wasting time trying to understand it" :D

An Earthquake in Delhi...

One of the first live blogs - and I am sweating profusely as I write this since the temperature in Delhi has shot over 30 degree C and I decided to climb 14 floors to get back to office. I was wondering as I climbed up: Had the earthquake been higher on the Richter scale...

To be fair, the emergency exit in our office is named as 'fire exit' and not 'earthquake exit' and hence its inability to ensure quick and safe exit of around 3000 people who work in the building in case of earthquake is not guaranteed. It took me 12 mins to get down from 14th floor. Needless to think about the hopeless situation in case of a stampede.

As I reached the ground, score of people turned out from lifts. With such 'fire exits', lifts are not necessarily unsafe, I reflected.

However, all this all began hilariously. Speaking on phone, I kept my hand on a long table in the cafeteria. The table was shaking like anything. Irritated a little, I looked over as to who was the trouble maker. There was none. This happened for a few times, and then suddenly the realization dawned upon me. I hurriedly said, "It feels like there's an earthquake here. I will call you later", heading towards the exit.

p.s Richter scale of around 5.2, I am told! And thankfully, all buildings held on.

The Novel Theory

The principal of The Novel Theory: A simple theory, which simply states, in the exact words: "I would rather spend an hour reading a novel than speaking to some girl on the phone."

Getting over the Famous Fives!

I was recently listening to one of the TED talks titled "Danger of a single story" in which Chimanmanda starts with the fact that she grew up reading American novels and thus when she began writing, her stories set in Africa too had white girl with blue eyes as protagonist which clearly were not truly African stories!

The moment I listened to this - all the books I have read immediately flashed across my mind. Keeping aside the non-fiction books, the only works of fiction by an Indian author or about India I remember reading are The Guide by RK Narayan, Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts, The sea of Poppies by Amitav Ghosh, Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lehri and Glorious Gharwal by Ganesh Saili. Life of Pi by Yann Martel can too be loosely classified in this category given that a bit of it is based in India. Moreover, I am astonished with the fact that I can't recall much from either the Sea of Poppies or the Interpreter of Maladies.

2011: Discovering the Incredible India

"Who travels widely needs his wits about him. 
The stupid should stay at home"

- Icelandic sayings advising travelers, Geography of Bliss

Quick Stats: 16 trips and over 60 days spent traveling: Airplane, train, bus, car, motor boat, chappu wali boat, bike, bi-cycle and foot - all modes of commutations used. Explored Uttrakhand, Karnataka, Kerela, Maharashtra, J&K, Rajasthan and Odisha; and Italy. 

I have no words to capture the combined experience. Except to say that India is a beautiful place, wanting to be discovered, waiting to be appreciated, and needing to be preserved. I hope dear reader, you too would go to all these places and several others, and discover your happiness. 

With that, here's a snapshot of my Discovery of India, and the amazing travel year 2011 has been. First, The Desh Mera Video Project (Credits: Jatin Pasrija) which captures it all. It's not on youtube and stupid blogger wouldn't allow to link a Vimeo Video!

Next, Jatin and I have also started a website to document our travels, though it's still under construction - you can pay a visit at Road No. 9-2-11

And finally - the tale in pictures, and a few words:

January 1st 2011, Back from Har ki Dun, Uttrakhand

Starting the new year in Bus - auspicious max!

Reaching back to Delhi after a straight 15-16 hours of bus journey in heavy rains. Back from an amazing all weather (sun, snow, hail and rains!) 9 day trekking trip to the Valley of God.  

The Ghost of Mission Impossible

Mind Blowing Awesomeness. But this bit, really is the only bit

I wanted to kick myself black and blue on seeing their embedded systems work at level of perfection comparable to that of a ballet dance in some London theater, or thousand violins playing a Mozart symphony in a concert, or maybe how millions of rupees smoothly disappear in our unHazare system. I couldn't help thinking where they recruit their embedded engineers from (and wishing if one of them could have helped with my BTP!)

Hence the part where his glove didn't work on the amazing glass of that really tall hotel in Dubai when that really massive sandstorm of which everyone was happily ignorant about was coming, was pretty unsettling. Maybe, I thought it was a subtle attempt to keep the flimsy fiber of reality running through the movie. Embedded systems, after all at the end of the day, are, umm... embedded systems. But maybe glove had more to do with material engineering.

At any rate, it didn't work. He anyways climbed up, unseen through the glass for so many floors and reached the server room, did whatever simple technical stuff he was told to do and found himself at a loss on how to get down. Held a cable and even before I could have thought what the heck was he thinking - he acted on his hunch, his gut - no he hadn't planned out what was going to happen, but he thought it should be alright, he knew it, he felt it - took the chord and was through the window running on the glass pane vertically downwards with the strap around his waist safely hinged god knows where, only to come to a sudden bone-crushing halt. The chord length was insufficient - and again before I could even grasp the situation or began considering possible options he ran back, swirled around in a large loop, "what the heck" (even his co-agents were thinking the same!), and left the strap in middle of his swing to continue on his trajectory towards the open window ...

That moment - of letting go, of taking the leap of faith, of acting on the hunch, of doing something which you don't know the outcome to - but in a split second before letting go you come to an understanding with yourself and say: "this will work" - that moment struck a chord. It was, discounting the risk and thrill by a million times, like the moment when I was almost on my toes - stretching between the rocks I was gripping from hands and those where my feet supported me from below, and leaned my entire weight on one hand as I threw the other one up to a higher point which looked like a prospective hinge, simultaneously as I pushed my legs to the next grip. If my flying hand misses the grip - I could slip, get bruised. But I in any case throw up my hand and legs one after the other. My hunch says I can do it ...

Sadly, that was the only thing that struck a chord. The background score was disappointing - where was that famous loud thumping MI tune which I grew up to! And let's not even get started about speeding in Mumbai, automatic multi level parking with left hand drive cars, and wait: no Marathi on doors: Tamil was it? Or Telgu? Point being: Shiv Sena - where art thou! And "No Anil Kapoor. We're not happy. Don't you know you need to dance on a song in some random non-related location while being seduced. Do a better role next time, or none at all."

On your face, Moon!

Was wondering what Earth and Moon must have been talking yesterday!

Earth to Moon:

Moon Moon
O full Moon

Why are you setting
today so soon

What are you hiding behind
You loon

Why are you not lit today
we had our noon

Did Sun get angry on you
You foolish baboon

The Story of 21km: Delhi Half Marathon 2011

By the time I crossed 5KM mark, I had already taken up around 40 minutes. Though happy about the fact that my usual right ankle pain hadn't seared up so far, and I was settling into my rhythm - I felt a little anxious: For next 16KM, I just had 100 odd minutes left to complete the race within the time I had in mind: 2 hours and 30 minutes. And running in half marathon is anything but linear. Especially if you have never run beyond 12 km in your life...

Breaking into a run at 17km Mark!

Prologue:

Last time I ran The Great Delhi Run and felt it was a joke. People stopped en route to playing bands and started dancing, and the podium with celebrities created a human traffic jam etc. ! Clearly it was more of an entertainment-run than anything else. So I thought of giving 21km a try this year around.

However, I was not sure if I could run that distance. Moreover, I wasn't in a mood to practice a great deal for the event. Still unsure with final registration date drawing to a close, a text by N asking if I have made up my mind yet acted as a great push and I registered for event on 5th Nov.

Twenty Three and not counting!

I wonder
as I look yonder 
Where have I reached
Where am I headed

I ask 
Is life a lovely journey
or just a mechanical churnery
I would rather it an experiment by mice
Douglas Adams, obviously was wise

I remember
So many days gone past
So many lessons learned
So many days that I enjoyed
and some when I got burned

I hope 
Life is an absolute continuous integration function
What I am learning and experiencing
Keeps getting accumulated under my curve
And I am not just talking about fat

In the end
Life's sheer pure gobberlygoo awesomeness
It's the best story ever told
The only part that I hate about telling it is
first you've to grow old... 

Thanks you folks, friends, family for your wishes and phone calls spread over the 4 days 6 days. They have died down a bit and I am missing them. Thanks you people for your lovely pastries (which I couldn't taste), card and letter, e-mails and thoughtful winter-wear, your texts and FB comments and for just being there. I celebrated this one is the best possible way: by going on a trip! Hell yeah.

p.s. My colleague in office pointed out that he can see greying which I vehemently denied, but I take that as a metaphor that I am growing wiser ;)

Run

On a lazy, cozy, cold winter morning in Delhi - what do you do if you get up at 6AM? 

You run. From your home to er...where? you think, realizing: Obviously: IIT Delhi
 

That's 6 KM. One way.

I ran across the BRT corridor, through the service lanes of "crores ke bangle" in Panchsheel, past the thick crowd at Hauz Khas metro station, over the IITD flyover, through the insti main gate, to the MS. Turn around and run back - feeling awesome!

1.5 hours. 12 km including a break at IIT to sip a few drops of water and check out MS123. It was in shambles, just like always, and I ignored it, just like always!

And had to make up for the lost calories by paying a visit to the American Diners at India Habitat Center, Lodhi Road - sounds like beginning of a perfect Sunday morning, huh? ;)

New found Jibber Jabber

I am traveling a lot in the Delhi Metro these days, and every journey takes my respect for the amazing rail system a notch higher. When everything around on roads is so chaotic, it's great to see something that functions so well. When you see that there's hardly anyone breaking the queue for security check, despite it being so long, you feel that the Delhi Metro governs its own culture. More on this later..

The new found jibber-jabber is to usually board the 2nd coach of the metro, get down wherever I am supposed to get down, and walk almost to the engine. By this time the train is ready to pull out of the station.

And precisely then, to turn around and start walking in the opposite direction, theethering on the yellow line. As the metro zooms past me, it feels almost like being in a shooting of a movie (remember the DCH song?). 

Or sometimes quite philosophical, especially when the last coach of train goes past at a with great speed and clitter-clatter and suddenly there is an empty space and a deafening-lull...

Give it a try next time you get a chance (and then tell your experiences!) :-)

Johnny be Good tonight!

I always used to think that this sort of meant ‘Johnny be a good boy’, in it’s general sense, as sometimes kids are told at home: “Johnny – don’t be troublesome, be a good sincere boy.” 
    But after having listened to it several times, I suddenly realized that this in fact means: “Johnny, be awesome. Irrespective of your background, and your knowledge of the world – you can be awesome. So go, become!” Since that sudden realization, it has become almost an inspirational song to me!

Knock Knock - Who's There

Frankly, I have never understood these jokes. But this is a good starting point (hilarious to be precise!)

A few those which I was able to understand:

Knock Knock
Who's there?
Doctor
Doctor Who
Wow. How did you know?

Leh Laddakh: Heaven truly is a little high! Part 2

Part 1 of the series

"The core of a man's spirit comes from new experiences"
- Into the Wild, Christopher McCandless

"Be gentle on my curves"
- One of several funny road-signs laid out by Himank, Border Road Organization, India

        We all were sitting inside the car; combined heat of 6 people working with the car blower to keep us protected from the thick cover of snow on the outside. A mild dizziness was spreading in our heads - the 5300m high Himalayan pass - Tanglang la making its presence felt. We were going around foggy turns, when suddenly the car stopped with a jerk. As we lowered our windows, grizzling sound of several trucks came for the outside. We were stuck in a deadlock - the path was not wide enough for even one vehicle to pass by, and the queue of trucks was long at the other end. Left with no other choice, our driver drove us desperately into the thick cover of snow to make way. The trucks slowly went past, their engine grumbling like a cocky old man...
    ...As their voice faded into distance, we tried to hit the road again which was when our fate slapped us. The tires obstinately refused to grip on the thick ice, beginning to endlessly skid, while the soot from the exhaust pipe started to gather on the snow. Four of us got out. We first pushed from back. Nothing. Then from front. Nothing: the car just wouldn't budge. And here's the thing about being at a height of 5300m (Delhi is at 300m, Mumbai at 0 m) - air density goes for a toss, literally, and thus pushing a car out of snow might leave your lungs screaming in madness that they are not spartan. Eventually, we picked up a few large stones to dig and clear the snow around the tyres - one final push and the car jolted forward.
         "It was awesome man", we said to each other getting in the car. After a while meek muffled sounds came about, all resonating:  "May I have a Disprin please?"

Leh Laddakh: Heaven truly is a little high! Part 1

"People who fly to Laddakh are morons!!!"
        - a conversation on Manali Leh highway

Juley Laddakh!

Frankly, what do you want me to do - Inspire you to go to Laddakh! Oh, come-on - if you're such blinded morons to be in want for any proof about its beauty, need inspiration, cajoling, push, or things like motivation to go there - scram - you're beyond help and you have earned my ire :P

You're spared if you're not an Indian, have never visited India, have never read keenly about it and are not planning to visit it sometime in near future. In that case - let me first introduce Laddakh to you:

Laddakh is a far flung cold desert on the northern most territories of India and is a part of Jammu and Kashmir (J&K), often referred to as 'paradise on earth' in befitting description to its breathtaking beauty. J&K's past, after the independence of India in 1947, marred with long history of terrorist activities by Pakistani insurgents has never effected Laddakh. However, there is a heavy presence of Indian Army in entire Laddakh region primarily because it shares its border with Tibet on the east and Pakistan on the west.
     In fact, it is the presence of Indian Army has led to creation and maintenance of strategically important and the only 2 roads leading to this region and metalling of several dizzily high passes to help us travel around. This has led to opening up of this enchanting part of the country for tourism. However, the altitude and terrain is so difficult, as you will see, that Laddakh continues to be entirely secluded except for the major touristy places. That too has below 20-30 people at any given time. Travel months are only from July to around October; and the entire region goes for hibernation during winter months with temperatures plummeting below -35 degrees C. My next aim, in fact, is to go there in winters and hopefully tread on the then frozen Zanskar river! But that's for later...

So now that you know of Laddakh, let me do my bit to encourage you:

"Go to Laddakh!"; or a tardy bit more pompous

"The lowest there (some 3500m) might be the highest you've ever been to"

That's the best I can say. Try asking me for any more reasons, and I'll answer with 19th century British air, "No, sir, no! Spare me the dishonor."

But let me tell you what I am going to do...I am going to show-off. Yes, as outraged as you might be right now, you've heard me right. And never mind your outrage on me, for soon you might be outraged on yourself for not having gone there thus far!

Here I begin:


Part 2 - here

Trains and Poetry

Traveling in Train is so much fun. The long journey which winds across several rivers, villages, fields and often mountainous structures is somehow inspiring - especially if you're traveling alone and decide to go and stand on the gate of the train in the night when everyone else has peacefully snuggled into the comfort of their seats and the weather has turned relatively cooler.

The gay winds hits your face, as you cut across the vast emptiness at a breathtaking pace, with Da-Dhinak Na-Dhinak racketing noise screaming at all the passing huts; huts from which only a thin veil of light gleam, as if it is afraid to come out and see the loud monster pass by...shining blindingly bright from its nose, and belching black clouds from the top of its head! 

And then when it starts to drizzle in such condition - you well might very well be damned if you don't try to compose poetry. Howsoever badly words might fail you, even rugged four lines look as if Mirza Galib himself has paid a visit in your head, and when you whisper those lines to yourself - you can't help notice a proud blush pass your face. Here's such a preposterous collection (i.e. you're allowed to laugh at it)

जिंदगी है यह कश्ती कैसी

की मांझी जाने सब

नौका पार लगाए वो

और पूजे ऊपर वाले को सब

चल तो दिया ज़िन्दगी की रह पर

और रोक कर आसुओं को कर रहा हूँ सामना

की पता नहीं बह जाऊंगा उनमें कब