Go Tell Joe, Baku is Snowy

Snowy Snowey, Joe Joey.

Know what you are talking about. Don’t shout when talking (discuss like humans). Stop having an opinion on everything (it’s not as essential as breathing). Don’t lose temper ten times a day (deep breaths when you are almost there with the temper). Definitely some exercise, physical activity (maybe join a gym). One makes a lot of plans. This year as well there are certain resolutions, some listed above and some more important ones which are not yet listable. Attempt will be to succeed on few. Havn’t had much success in the past but let’s hope it’s different this time.

Actually, it has not started differently. Been lazing around. Havn’t been in India in 2010 (temper can’t be tested till I get home, that’s where I am more prone to lose it). Having an opinion on everything, well that’s another story, a totally different one. The other day I let a topic/debate pass by, hard done, but did it. Quite an achievement I will say.

Seen four countries in three weeks of the New Year. High flying / globe trotting whatever you call it. It tends to lose its novelty in a year or two. Then you just wish the economy-class-leg-cramping journeys to get over with (can’t stop having opinions as easily I guess). But finally the new assignment has started and hopefully the frequent flying won’t be that excessive. I should sound a bit more cheery. Just saw my first snowfall (which incidentally has resulted in two days off work due to bad road conditions). Snow is fun (till it starts melting, that is everyone’s opinion here and I tend to agree with it). If I didn’t despise the job when it comes to starting in a new location so much I would have had little more fun.

Was going to write on something totally different. And have been mumbling about what not. Practically on the verge of losing my mind these past few weeks. Havn’t done much work (not entirely my fault), people here don’t understand English so can’t talk to people outside office, it’s too cold and havn’t tried venturing out in the city where I heard there are some good Indian/Pakistani places and spirit of these places generally cheers one up. Have been reading books but have started wondering why I read so much. Have never stopped and thought about what I read, just guzzle down one book after another. Why? No clue. I guess trying to catch up on the 17-18 years of missed literary action in the life. But that’s hard to do. Still worth an attempt. But it’s getting tiring now. Started reading The book. This will be interesting and challenging for me to get to the end of while taking in what It means and says. Will try to not stop the endeavor in the middle like most other useful things I set about to do.

Had some free time at hands past few days and hence, have been writing people a lot of emails. Some real long ones. There are two drafts with subject titles. Two very essential and important emails. Havn’t got the strength to start filling in words the body of the emails. Some things that matter in life are the ones that make your life tough. People or other matters, essential stuff (in my OPINION) should be made non-essential. Life would be easy. A life of sanayasi more like it. But even that is not fun when I think about it. Another OPINION.

Again losing the thread (must be kidding myself, never had any thread to begin with). They celebrated the 61st republic day with such pomp and show. They would have done better if all had helped those who are freezing out on the roads of Delhi with the money wasted. But celebrations are not a waste. They say that’s what life is all about. Celebrating and rejoicing. Essentially yes, but then you tend to agree more if you have more to celebrate. If you only have life and that too is slowly getting chewed by the cold you may disagree. Still all opinions. Saw on the news people making good business out of renting blankets, daris etc. every night. That’s another approach to life. Making full use of every opportunity. Some people wait for lady luck some make their own.

Yes, the snow. It’s very cold. I mean the snow. Try touching it. I did. I am sure you know what I am talking about. Of course I am not kidding. To kid with you, about snow. I have to be crazy. What? Since when? Well that’s a news. Never knew that. Come on, you are a friend. You should let me know such important things about me. Me? You say so. Well I am always forthcoming with all that I have to say about anything and anyone. Resolution. Which one? Didn’t I tell you about the resolution? Oh yes, I did. Now that’s like a good friend. OK. No opinions about snow as well. OK snow is not cold. That’s an opinion too. OK. Snow is white. But it appears white only till the tyres make it all muddy. Not even that. That's a fact. What? OK. I said alright. Now stop it. Temper. Losing it. Who? Me. I don’t know what are you talking about. Resolutions? Anyways.

Listen to this poem. Funny? Yes, it is very funny. I made it. Definitely. Original? Of course. ‘Snowy snowey, Joe joey.’ Yes that’s the title.

“Go tell Joe. Baku is snowy.
Snowy snowey, very very snoweey.
I am sure you know Joey.
Yes, yes, dear old FRIEND(s) Joey.”

Clap Clap. Thankyou.

Being Forgotten

There is no greater loneliness on earth than when someone turns his back on you. The loneliness of death, misunderstanding, distance, separation and irreconcilable differences cannot match it. But the aloneness that even God could not bear was the loneliness of being forgotten.

- Ravan & Eddie – Kiran Nagarkar

Remembering you.

Most Faithful

When my heavens were turned to blood,
When the dark had filled my day,
Furthest, but most faithful, stood
That lone star I cast away.
I had loved myself, and I
Have not lived and dare not die.

“Once in life I watched a star; but I whistled her to go.”
- THE MAN WHO WAS KIPLING

It Isn't Time That's Passing

Remember the long ago when we lay together
In a pain of tenderness and counted
Our dreams: long summer afternoons
When the whistling-thrush released
A deep sweet secret on the trembling air;
Blackbird on the wing, bird of the forest shadows,
Black rose in the long ago summer,
This was your song:
It isn’t time that’s passing by,
It is you and I.
- Ruskin Bond

Traveling Thoughts 4

Continued from Traveling Thoughts 3

Jheechin was in no mood of letting me go easily. Most nights these bars dont get more than one customer so they had to make the most of whatever whoever whichever opportunity comes. By now I was also in the mood of making the most of this visit (which was not planned if you remember). And this is where one gets stuck in his narrative. Should one write about what happened the way it happened or should one use some tricky words to make it sound great when in fact it wasn’t. In few words this is what happened. During the final play of the game I did end up in that corner with the sofa and curtains. I did buy jheechin the remaining two drinks. And there were indeed moments which I am at loss to describe. However after what seemed liked a really long time I was out of the bar. As I said earlier jheechin was in no mood to let me go easily. She rushed out of the bar as soon as I left and started walking along with me.

I opened my eyes to see gold colored mountains rising in front. It was early autumn and the tress has just started to change the colors and shed the leaves. It was beautiful. And the air was a lot cleaner as well. Another five minutes and I got the first glimpse of the great wall. Once we were parked I got three hours from my driver for conquering the wall.

Few days ago I happened to read an essay on the great wall of China. In his own very Kafka way he tells about his research into the history of the wall. It makes an interesting reading and infact adds to curiosity of watching the wonder. Over six centuries to build over 25 thousand miles of wall on top of the mountains over millions of lives as cost. It makes one wonder about the histories of all the wonders. After reaching the top of Eiffel tower I knew that I will never climb up again. After spending an hour on the wall I knew that but for the mountains I wont come up here again. Mountains are all that makes the wall worth a visit and of course the history. The history one can read anywhere but that one visit is still required to feed the curiosity.

Karnee was the first of the group to start a conversation. She could speak English pretty well. They were five in the group. Three of them sat on the opposite side on the cable car. The other two, a girl and a guy took the next cable car (“they are lovers” is what Karnee will tell me later when I ask why did not they come with us in the same cable car. Maybe they wanted some privacy or maybe they just didn’t want to sit on the same seat as some stranger I will never know). After a while I asked Karnee if they were afraid of me as they were three on one seat and I had the whole seat. They all said no and Karnee to prove her point jumped next to me. And after that for next one hour it was as if she forgot about her friends. We reached the base of the cable cars and we, me and Karnee, walked into the market.

Karnee is in 1st year of high school. There are three years in high school, she tells me. At the end of the three years is the big exam which decides what university or college one gets. She is already worried about the big exam as she wants to get into a good university so that she can travel out of China, most likely she wants to go Europe. Dreams are same all around the world it seems. Every time a non-Chinese guy, who are mostly western tourists, passes she shouts “how beautiful, how handsome”. According to her all Chinese have small eyes and are not as handsome. I agree but I did not say this to her. She likes big eyes and tall guys. She would like to make a boyfriend in Europe. She is very interested in the way I bargain with the shop owners. She thinks I am too good at it. Well I have learned the hard way. She is getting all the tips without spending anything. She is the only child of her parents, like most Chinese families. She gets 25 yuan per month from the government for being the only child, she tells me. There is a big crowd from her school today at the great wall. It’s a class trip. Everywhere we cross her class mates are surprised. “I will be a hero in my class”. Walking along with me can do that to someone, I never knew.

I (we, as jheechin is still tagging along) am walking back to the hotel. Out of no where a million girls have appeared are sitting outside all those bars. Jheechin was beside me trying to make the best use of her English. I was wondering how long she will tag along as I had stated clearly to her that I was not paying anymore. Maybe she had few charms still left to try. After clearing the bars and when we were away from the crowd she lost her patience and asked me for money or she will return. I said my byes and kept moving along.

If one thinks about the baby at the airport who kept playing hide and seek with me all the while we waited for the security check and kept laughing at an out of place bearded man, if one thinks about nearly thirty people (including both men and women) coming out laughing from men’s restroom when they had just blindly followed someone thinking this to be the way to immigration, when one thinks about clapping and cheering that little guy on the roller skates dodging the little paper cups, when one thinks about that little gift you left for Nana, when one think about all the people who wanted and took a picture with you there are chances that one finds some good around. For most part it is a loosing battle. But now the plane is landing, Beijing is behind, Shangai is yesterday, the wheels are touching the ground again, Delhi is now, Punjab is tomorrow, and there is still a long distance to go…

Traveling Thoughts 3

Continued from Traveling Thoughts 2

Coming to China most people want to see the great wall. I was no different. I spent one night in Beijing and left for Tanggu the next morning. My plan was to visit the wall on return journey. Manager in Tanggu while sending me to Shekou suggested going back through Hongkong, which is next door to Shekou. I nodded a hesitant approval but told him about my plan to visit the great wall as I left his room. “I am not sure if I will ever come back to China again”, I added. After an hour or so he called me back and called Nana, administrator in Beijing, to arrange for my travel from Shekou to Beijing, weekend in Beijing including the wall visit and then travel back to India. He even asked Nana to show me around the city. She was busy on Saturday, she said, but agreed to accompany me on Sunday.

I reached Beijing, from Delhi, around 5 in the evening. I was pretty tired from all the travel over last few days and strolled out of the hotel for a small walk before I had dinner and slept. The markets close by had few grocery shops, a fruit vendor, one pharmacy, few restaurants and very large number of massage parlors. I checked out the prices of the massages on all the boards and could not stop myself from entering one. I had been planning for a massage for a while but Aussie rates were never under few hundred dollars and I could never bring myself to massage away so much money. After struggling to convey my message at the reception for few minutes ‘the massage menu’ came to rescue and after wondering what kind of massage to go for I settled on 40 minutes oil massage. 100 yuan.

The place looked pretty sneaky. I mean it was some king of parlor in the basement and with pretty dark alleys. However, once I found there were no way of locking the doors of each room from inside I realized this place must be a massage parlor and not “massage parlor”. They had Chinese tea as complimentary. One look at it and I thought it was the some kind of oil. I just kept it on one side. The girl, masseuse, that walked in was pretty hot but very businesslike. I did have other thoughts for a while but once she got to work it was damn relaxing. After the massage I felt I could sleep forever. And I did nearly the same for next few days in the office. Chinese trip had begun well.

As I checked back in the same hotel on the last evening in Bejing, the receptionist handed me a letter from Nana. Before leaving Shekou I had called her to inform that I will only be staying for Saturday and leave in the evening. She had prepared a big plan for me to travel around arranged cars. She explained everything in the letter and also expressed how sorry she was that she could not take me around the city and asked if I could change plans and stay on till Sunday evening. I called her, thanked her for all the trouble she had taken for the arrangements, told her it was OK if she was not free, asked her if she lived close by hotel so that maybe we can meet for a coffee/dinner, which she did not, and she again asked me to change my plan to leave from Saturday to Sunday.

Sometimes the distance is irrelevant. Sometimes it does not matter who one is with, where one is or what one is doing. Sometimes one just did not care. But it’s been a long time for this sometime. A long time for those someones, a long time for those somewheres and a long time for those somethings. Now there is this feeling of being stretched in time, both inside and outside. There is this feeling at most of those somewheres, with most of the someones, most of the sometimes and during most of the somethings. The time one is alive, the place where one is, the people one is with and the things one do are becoming relevant. One thinks about all this now. One wonders if one can and if one should live.

I wanted to get back home as soon as possible. Back in the mid of air which sustains me for all those times when I am not there. A place where standing in the middle of smoke of burning fields of hay, after the crops have been harvested, there is no feeling of loss of air, the place where smoke is full of life. A place where traveling final five miles from the town to the village makes you five years younger.

Nana could not understand why I did not want to stay one more day. “I want to get back home asap” was all I could tell her. She was still singing the sorry song of not being able to show me around and I was still playing the chorus of it is OK and thanks for everything. Eventually with a high note of let me know if you need any help tomorrow and final fading beat of sure I will thankyou bye we finished our conversation.

After the eventful night at the hotel, I got up early, packed, had my breakfast, checked out and was on my way by 7:30 in the morning for the guided tour, in Chinese, of Beijing and the great wall. The driver as usual was 100% Chinese and nil% English. It was early morning and there was fog in the air. The air was relatively clean and one could catch few breaths of fresh air. We drove on nearly empty highways. Our first stop was Tianeman square. It was not a stop I found out later.

I had done some googling on the square last night. Just for general awareness as I was sure I will not have anyone for the insights into the structures and history and whatever little I had read in Wild Swans (courtesy Ravi) a year back I had totally forgotten. The ride to the square was through the heart of the city and for the first time I could see how massive the place was. As we approached the square I loosened the seat belt a bit and rolled down the window. On my right came what looked like the grave of Mao. I asked my driver if we could stop. Somehow he managed to convey the message no-parking-here-we-don’t-stop-here-we-just-take-a-round-and-we-keep-moving. I fumbled inside my bag, got my camera out and took a shot of what I thought was Mao’s grave. The driver had nearly brought the car to a standstill risking a ticket. We turned left and that’s when it became clear that there must be more than billion people here in China.

I used to wonder why there were few people with small bamboo sticks with a flag held high at various airports across China. Of course I could never read what was written on these flags language being Chinese. There was a sea of humans at the square and it was just eight in the morning. The square was big but having read that it was the largest square in the world I was a bit disappointed. I mean all that empty land next to my village could be a bigger square (with no walls and structures around of course and not much of bloodshed in history). Jokes apart the number of people in the square was huge. And all the groups were following a flag hanging at the top of a bamboo stick. Yes that’s what it was for. So that people don’t get lost in the sea of humans. I think another reason could be that they all looked so similar it would be hard to make which group one belongs to (I guess this is the problem with every community if you don’t belong to it).

He, my driver, was trying to convey some message. It was tough for him but he seemed a patient guy and kept trying calmly. After all his hand gestures and his entire English vocab failed to convey the message he fished into one of the boxes in the car cabinet and took out a small booklet which appeared like a bill book but which was infact a travel guide. It contained all the important words and sentences a tourist may need and was in few languages English and Chinese being two of these. He tried to find what he was looking for but could not and hence gave up the idea and kept driving. I picked the booklet, flicked through it and to my surprise found out plenty of helpful sentences. For the rest of the day I just pointed at the English sentence and the driver looked at the Chinese one and we could converse easily (except for once when I was trying to ask him to take me to some market like the market of exotic and he kept taking me to some weird crappy markets).

I asked my driver if we can visit the Olympic park (with the help of the booklet). From his facial expression I could make that he could. And after about 20 minutes of ride we were parked next to the bird’s nest. He pointed at his watch. I had 30 minutes. 2008 is the year to be in Beijing. Or it was, till the Olypmics. After watching all those games and fireworks on TV, the bird’s nest appeared as beautiful as you could imagine. The Olympic park was huge with the nest and the water cube at the heart of it. Chinese must have spent a fortune at this park but at 50 yuan per person and the monstrous crowd waiting early in the morning to enter the stadium it wont be long before the nest returns its cost. 30 minutes of Olympic glory and I was back in the car on my way to the wonder of the China, the only man made structure visible from moon as they say. It was two hour ride and it was not long before I dozed off.

Traveling Thoughts 2

Continued from Traveling Thoughts 1

We entered the bar. From outside it gave a very grim look. As if the place was engulfed with a lot of the sadness. The brightly glowing signboard did not make it less gloomy. There were similarly, similar to jheechin, dressed girls sitting outside. All equally young. All equally good looking. Inside it was dark. A strange kind of dark, I imagined. A small collection of very old and rarely used drinks was what gave that place a semblance to a bar. A very dusty looking refrigerator. Three four stools next to the bar table. In the far corner two small sofas which could be curtained of to make a small private section, if required, as I found out later. The place was not happy. It was a place where one could pretend to be happy but it was a grim, dull, loud and empty place. A place from where you get out with a relief, like being released from a dark cell of a prison.

So there I was, without the intentions of ever getting there. It was a strange walk. On the way there were two or three beggars asking for money. I ignored them, walked at a distance the moment I saw the begging bowl extended. The money which I paid for the drinks in the bar would have been better spent somewhere else. But it was an evening for fun not to find the good in me and the world. There was a game to be played. I found myself in the middle of three girls. Jheechin had removed the jacket she was wearing and was now clad in the bare minimum clothes. Tattoo on her lower back, a Scorpio trying to find its way down, was shining even in the relative dark. I found out as the game went on that the business model of the bar was manifold. They were pros so that was one source of income. Another thing was to earn by selling as many drinks as possible. Not as many as the customer wants to drink but as many as the customer can be made to pay for. Jheechin stood next to the stool I was sitting and did a little dance jig to some Chinese song being played. Another girl climbed on the stool behind and gave my shoulder a rub. I smiled and shifted myself slightly away. Since I was in a bar I was meant to have a drink, though jheechin on her way to bar has indicated her special likeness of me and of many of her ideas for the night and drinks were not a part of those plans. Not forgetting I was in China I bargained over the price of beer. It was a bit of overkill in bargain but it saved me five Yuan a drink.

It was the first move of many jheechin would make. She jumped onto my lap and with a wicked smile said, “Buy the girl drinks”. I gave her a while before pushing her back to her dance floor. “I only buy for her” I said pointing at jheechin and talking to bartender. There were lot of protests from all and after showing the contents of my wallet when the bartender told me the price of the drink she was already preparing herself to serve to all and after whatever calculation she did in her head and after she had offered me a 10 Yuan discount on her initial price I ended up buying four drinks, three for the girls and one for the bartender who was also a girl by the way. That left me with the money to buy two more drinks at the going rate. Those went to jheechin as the game was played.

The meeting with client has just finished. There were still nearly four hours before the flight back to Beijing and after taking leave from my colleague KC (was it Khoung Chang I wont be able to tell but I am glad most people in SLB use acronyms for there names here) I headed towards Bombay. I had seen it during my previous night’s walk. This is an official trip to China. I was to go offshore for work. I could not. Reason: not able to get required Chinese documents to go offshore on time. So I whiled away few days in Tanggu office while the other guys did the job hoping if they needed any help I can support on phone. The phone call never came. I was glad it didn’t. Only I know I suck at this part of my job, dealing with a crappy software and I have a big project due in few months on the same. How I will ever finish that only God knows? Even though there were many problems the client was a bit nasty and did not give much time to the guys to call back and discuss the situation. Eventually the manager here decided to make some use of me and sent me to Shekou to a client meeting which he himself was supposed to attend. It went well, I guess, and with a promise to the client that we, SLB, will look at the problem and get back to them with some solution I took my leave.

The first sip of the masala tea was like a sip of heaven. It has been more than a week since I had any tea and this cup promised to be a good one. Chinese tea isn’t what I can enjoy. If the cup of tea was anything to go by Bombay promised to be a good restaurant though I kept my fingers crossed. It was early for the usual lunch crowd, if there was any. I was the only customer and the manager spoke English so it did not take me long to start a conversation. I praised the tea though mentioned that in China it is very good but in India it will be just OK and gave her few tips to make the tea even better. On enquiring I found out that the chefs were Chinese. The manager tells me that these chefs have been taught by Indian chefs for over four years and because of Olympics the two of them could not renew their visas while in China and hence are in India right now sorting out their paperwork.

The interior of Bombay tries to give a feel of an Indian restaurant. The jhoomers on roof, the very Rajasthani style paintings on the walls, the brass glass on every table carrying napkins in place of lassi, and the menu card which promises everything you have been hungry for over a week. Trying to be a vegetarian in a place like China is tough but I think even Indian non-vegetarians are no better here. It is just not the way an Indian will eat his/her food or so I think. The music was not to my liking and the manager gets that sorted out. Chinese singers disappear and Dard-e-disco blares out of the speakers and dancing to the tunes, on the TV screen, is all muscles and six pack abs Shah Rukh. According to the manager he is very famous around here and also, what is the name of that girl, soooo bherrrryyyy buutifooool, she is trying to pluck the name out of her memory. She is gesturing at her eyes and making a big circle around her face with her hands. “Aishwarya Rai”, I help her. Yes, she is very very beautiful according to her. I tell her most of the Indians agree with her and none more than Abhishek Bachhan these days though this last bit I thought about now. Dard-e-disco is followed by ‘nagara baja’ and after few new numbers which I can’t associate with any of the movies I have seen, Aamir Khan makes an appearance with Subhan Allah. I am enjoying it much more than I have enjoyed Hindi music in any of the restaurants in India. Subhan Allah.

There comes the papad with hari chutni. I order veg-biryani. The manager brings another cup of tea. “This is free”. She seems to be in a good mood. When you are happy the others around and the world around attempt to make it better, sometimes. There is good around if we just not go looking for it. The biryani turns out to be pretty good. I finish it to the last grain of rice. Laze around for a while, make some idle conversation with the manager and after talking for a few minutes with an Indian family which has just walked into the restaurant, who invite me to join but which somehow I decline, and walk out to find the skies a little cloudy and a strong wind blowing.

During the build-up to Olympics I happened to watch many debates on Australian TV about Olympics being held in Beijing. There were many issues around at that time. The bigger issues are still there and the people who were suffering then are still suffering, whatever was wrong then is still wrong, but the media has moved on as the Olympics are part of a glorious chapter of history now. But during those discussions a point would always be raised about pollution in China and Beijing’s promise of delivering a green Olympics. There were people and few athletes reporting from Beijing that it is a little tough out there for athletes because of pollution. I always thought that must be just the kind of news reporting we have these days and it cannot be that bad.

Traveling in a car across various cities of China proved that those reporters were not making false claims. At certain times it got so bad on roads that I found it hard to breathe. A sense of suffocation, a feeling of your lungs revolting and a very strong smell of hydrocarbons. Those in favor of Beijing 2008 would say that China has made a big improvement in the years since being awarded the Olympics. I wonder what it was like before. The cities in China, especially Beijing, have been made green as I observed traveling around. But most of the trees around the cities though standing green were standing with supporting structures, telling the world that a big effort has been made and forests have been uprooted and re-rooted in the cities. The number of people who use bicycles in China is amazingly large. There are special lanes around the roads for cycle users. But for these cycle users I would have choked, I wonder.

There is a Manto story about a guy who used to listen to the sounds of the night. He lived in a part of town where the houses were very dense and roof of one house touched roofs of many other houses. Those were the times when there was no regular electricity supply to his town, Lahore if my memory serves. People used to sleep on the rooftops. And if any family had a young married couple they had the rights to the rooftop. This young man grew up listening to the sounds of the night, squeaks of the charpais, muted sighs and grunts of pleasure, the whispered conversations of the couples. He shared an unknown relation with all on the surrounding rooftops. And then one day he got married. As he stepped on the charpai on his wedding night for the first time he heard his bed squeak. From that moment on he was aware of the sound of his breath, the whispers created by his body movement. The moment he would want to make a move towards his newly wed he would grow still. He knew there were others listening. And he knew certain things are meant to be personnel and not shared across rooftops. This went on for few nights. The story ends with the guy going crazy or running away, I cant remember exactly.

Last night in China my hotel room was no better. Few nights in a room like this would definitely make me crazy. The guy on the room above was all ready to bring his bed crashing down with the roof. The room next to my head had the loudest screaming lady. It was late in the night night and I had to start early the next morning. I tried hard to shut out the sounds with the blanket. There would be a break but either or both sounds would return. I ended up banging on the wall to tell them there were people trying to sleep. There was hardly anything I could have done to the guy on the room above.