The Perfect Country?!

$1000 fine for spitting, $100,000 for cutting a tree, life imprisonment for possession of a gun; Sounds like quite the idyllic place right? In fact the one city country, Singapore, seemed just that!

On my way back to the US for my last semester at school, I decided to fly back eastwards from India, stopping in Singapore for a day. What a splendid decision it turned out to be!

Flying on a poorly managed overnight Air India flight from Delhi to Singapore, I was at least thankful that the flight was empty and I got 4 seats to myself to sleep on. The decision to fly to Singapore was a sudden one and the last time I did something on a whim was when I went to Lebanon. Though I had a great time, the Lebanese weren’t the most efficient or hospitable people I have met in the world.
I was landing in Singapore without a plan or hotel room. Getting past immigration, I picked up my bag and looked around to find a place to book myself a hotel. Very conveniently located in the main atrium at Singapore’s Changi airport was the hotel reservation desk and the kind lady was chatty and helped me find a hotel, that according to her was, “The best deal of the day.” A very convenient shuttle service for 9 SKD (1USD=1.3SKD) took me straight to my hotel in an area called Tanjor Pagar, close to Chinatown and the business district. The driver of the little bus was happy to have a person to talk to and we chatted about Singapore’s attractions, its strict rules and the like. The lesson to learn was, “If you have money Singapore is the best country, if you don’t its hell.” I wasn’t too sure about that.
It was still only 10 am when I reached the hotel and was able to get an early check in; +1 to Singapore efficiency and hospitality. The room was indeed “the best deal” for the price I paid. It had all modern day amenities, a plush bed and a lavish bathroom. I figured I’d nap before I hit the streets as I wasn’t planning to sleep at night…

Once ready I took a cab to the famous Orchard road known for its shopping and crowds of people. The cabbie dropped me at a shopping complex called Takashimaya. En route I had already been impressed with the ‘automated toll taker’ installed in every car, bike, truck in Singapore for when vehicles were entering zones which were tolled so as to speak. The Orchard road area was tolled and the cabbies couldn’t just drop passengers anywhere but had to do in designated areas.

Takashimaya was a multileveled mall with top end brands attracting tourists and locals alike. There was definitely a bustle here. As I walked out the other end of the mall, I was on Orchard road. I could see shops and malls as far as I could see. One thing that is very striking about Singapore is the greenery around. There are tall trees, gorgeous floors and well-manicured plants everywhere you go. This road was no different. Walking amongst the crowd, the one thing I was on the lookout was for some local fare. My friends had told me to find hawker stands and food courts that served all sorts of delicious treats. Singapore is home to Malaysians, Chinese, Thai, South Indians and thus local cuisine comprises of the best and most wonderful of foods from these lands. In a small shopping center I saw a little food court with 3-4 restaurants. I didn’t want to waste any more time and got straight to eating. I ordered what looked like strips of really moist and soft chicken on a bed of very fragrant rice. The meat had been sliced from boiled and baked chickens that were hanging whole at the tiny restaurant. The simple meal, accompanied by a very tangy spicy sauce was delicious and cost only 3.5 SKD. I drank what was a green tea iced tea infused with condensed milk.

As I was exiting this little shopping center, an Indian man in a garment store caught my attention and I found myself in a suit store. The next thing I know I was amidst a very serious sales effort from the man from south india, named Adam. I had promised myself I wouldn’t shop but found it almost impossible to resist a great deal on a tailored suit. Every time I tried to exit the shop the salesmen would slash the price and lure me right back in. My resistance was meek and in my mind I reasoned that I needed to buy 1 suit and 5 shirts for when I start my job!

A few hours spent negotiating and selecting what I wanted to buy had gotten me hungry again. On a recent food visit to Chandni Chowk in New Delhi, my aunt and I had tried the small plate concept, sampling little portions of food at multiple locations in the process being able to try a variety of things. I was keen on doing the same and came across another, larger open air food court on Orchard road. My eyes fell on a guy selling soup. I ordered myself a meatball soup. He placed two big pieces of lettuce, some spring onions, poured a hot clear soup on top and put in the pork meatballs. This was a very light and flavorful meal and I devoured it down observing the locals around me enjoying the fare as much as I was.

It was dusk now and I wanted to go to the Marina Bay area for what I was told would be great views of the skyline. I took a bus from where I was and was impressed by the order and efficiency. Display boards at the bus stop displayed arrival times for every bus, commuters swiped a card when they got on and swiped it again when leaving, and everyone respected each other’s space.

The Marina building is a might impressive building that has three towers with a ship like structure going across on top. “Shopping at Marina Bay’ was a beautiful looking mall with highly aesthetic interiors, an artificial lake with boats running at the lowest level and countless people enjoying an evening out. As I exited the mall on the other side from where I entered, I was met by a fabulous view of the Singapore skyline across the river. On my side, hundreds of people were gathered to watch a light and sound show being projected on a spray of water just beyond the deck. The projections, lasers and the dance of the fountains with the dramatic background in the back made this a wonderful scene. Locals had come out with families and were lying down and sitting down on the sprawling two leveled deck overlooking the show.

I managed to get a round of dumplings and an interesting mango shrimp fried snack at the mall before I left. After marveling at the architecture around a bit more I headed to my hotel on the metro. The metro just like the buses and the taxis was equally efficient and easy to use. You could recycle your metro card once you got off to get the 1SKD deposit (Part of ticket price) back. Very clear indications on the track and in the train ensured you couldn’t miss your train even if you tried. Singapore has very strict rules and is very harsh on offenders. I was starting to believe that this was a good thing as people enjoyed and respected the land a lot more as a result.

My flight out of Singapore to Japan was at 6 am and I had decided not to sleep. After freshening up, I made my way to the famous Clark Quay. I was starving by now and was looking forward to getting a good local meal. It is hard to describe Clark Quay. It was the area with all the bars/clubs and fun spots. The place was bustling with people of all age’s criss-crossing each other hopping from pub to bar to club. Sheesha bars, international cuisine, live music, you name it and this place had it. The center of the entire area had this fascinating fountain and imposing structure. Had I been here on any other night I would have been overjoyed but I was looking to get local fare and this was not the place for that. After a while of looking around I decided to get a beer at a pub. Oh all of Singapore I was told by one of the cabbies, loves Manchester United or MU as they call them fondly. Watching the game and sipping on some beer indoors a live one band came on. After enjoying a few songs I decided to move to another bar called Octapas; cleverly named as it served Spanish finger foods called Tapas.

The ambience here was better and I decided to cave in and ordered a plate of toast with goat cheese and serano ham with a pint of Tiger beer. The live band here was belting hits by lady gaga, U2 and Santana. Now over the disappointment of not finding the food I desired, I moved to another bar that had a very colorful rickshaw parked outside called Singapore Sling. This bar was empty barring one table inside. I perched on one of the tables with a long island iced tea as the singer of the band playing welcomed me to Singapore. As I sat and listened to her gorgeous voice, a boisterous group joined; Shyam, Raj and Michael, all Singaporean, the first two of Indian descent and the later of Chinese descent. They were locals at the bar and the singer was pleased to see them. What ensued thereon was a hilarious night. The three took a liking to me and started to chug drinks amongst themselves, slow dance with each other to John Mayer, and voicing their feelings loud and clear.

After a group photo with the lead singer (Sheesh I forget the name of the band), they took me to a club called ….. The club had a stage with a hip hop band singing everything from David Guetta, Justin Beiber to Jay Z. It was pretty hilarious. The group seemed to know the entire management as we took our first drinks with much of the staff. I had my first green tea and whiskey. Sounds odd but was surprisingly good. Sort of like the red wine and coke I had in Spain. The drinks kept coming and the emotions were high as the mighty Raj (he was big built) kept fist pumping me with all his might. After an hour or so I realized Raj had lost his friends and was really not in his senses. It was also time for me to go pick up my stuff and head to the airport but I decided to drop Raj home as he was in a bad state. If I remember correctly in a very odd moment, Raj sitting at the back, growled like he had been all night and bit of some of the seat! It was bizarre. It was raining hard and I the cabbie was occupied in an interesting conversation with me so he didn’t pay attention then.

I made it to the airport in time, hungry, tipsy and very satisfied. Singapore had been amazing. I had taken an instant liking to this small, diverse and rule loving country. A quarter of the 6 million Singapore population comprises of foreigners and expats and I can understand why. There is really something for everyone here. It is a hidden gem amongst the Asian giants. As I hear stories about young professionals working in different cities around the world and ponder over my future as well, it wasn’t hard for me to see a life here for a few years. I have been able to visit many countries and cities in the last few years and I have to say Singapore ranked high amongst my favorites London, New York City and Cape Town in terms of livability.

So if you need a tailored suit at a good price, I bet my friend Adam over on Orchard road in Singapore would be more than happy to make you a sale! “My friend, we go to god empty handed, spend today, get this great suit,” Adam said. Sold!

How to re-enact: Tom Hanks from the Terminal

(ATL-DCA-ATL-DXB-DOH-BEY-DOH-DXB-LHR-JFK-LGA-ATL)

In what has now turned into a real life comedy, starring me in the main role, I think it is opportune for me to write a survival guide; ‘How to survive at an airport if you don’t have a visa to get out or a flight to take you where you belong’

Those aware of my escapades may know that I flew to Lebanon from Atlanta to catch a concert. That trip had been crazy enough in its own right and didn’t need any more excitement. It wasn’t to be.

For those lucky ones holding a US or UK passport, you will not understand my pain, but for those stuck with one of those passports that requires you to obtain a visa for every country you travel to, will surely feel for me, or at least be amused at my expense.
Prior to the trip, I had spent ample money and effort and lost a lot of sleep in obtaining my Lebanese visa. I had to even make a mad dash flight to DC and back to collect my passport from the consulate and be back in time for my onward connections to the Middle East.

So here was my itinerary: Atlanta to Dubai as a standby passenger on Delta (Space available, scum of the earth passenger. I don’t care I get to fly for free), Confirmed flight from Dubai to Doha (In Qatar) and another flight from Doha to Beirut on Qatar Airways. I managed to make it there, through back and forth time zones and multiple flights. UAE is 9 hours ahead, Doha is 8 hours ahead and Lebanon is 7 hours ahead of EST. The trip back was the more entertaining kind.

After an entire night of bouncing and vigorously shaking my body in what was some form of dance at the concert, I had to come to my room, shower and head to the airport. The first challenge was convincing Qatar airways to let me board my flight since I didn’t have any confirmed flight from Dubai onwards (I was a standby passenger on Delta remember). After pleading with them and telling them that I would stay at the airport, they let me go. (Sweet chaps). In a half daze, through 2 bus transfers at Doha airport, 2 flights, I reached Dubai airport, soon to be my home for 30 hours.

I arrive at the gate for the Delta flight and turns out standby passengers are not getting on today. The weight limit has been reached (Cargo going back to the US) and they can’t take passengers even though there are seats. I have already managed to leave my passport folder in one of the bathrooms by now. A very nice Indian airport worker sees me frantically running where I think I left it and calls me out saying, “Passport. Indian passport. I have it, I look for you.” I thank the man, pat his shoulder and tell him I hope to be getting out soon. Once I get over the disappointment of not getting on the flight, I try to see if I can get a visa to get into the country. The scary officials in the immigration office say I must have a confirmed flight to get a visa and I must talk to my airline to give it to me in writing. (As if that’s happening I think to myself). At this point I am starting to feel like Tom Hanks in the terminal; No India didn’t go off the map suddenly, but here I am in limbo, stuck.

After much deliberation I decide to check into the Dubai international airport hotel, built right inside the terminal, between gates 114 and 117. The room plush, roomy, comfortable and with a delightful bed, flat screen tv and all the amenities of a regular hotel was way more than I could have dreamed of in this dazed state of mine. My window overlooked the transfer desks I was at a few hours ago when I first landed. It was weird being in a hotel room at the airport. As I chuckled at the thought of going down to the duty free to get chocolate for my craving, I passed out.

I am awoken to the smell of fresh jet fuel and the sound off, “Malaysian Airlines Flight 2323 to Kuala Lumpur will board at gate 121.” No just kidding, the room was pretty sound proof. I awoke after 13 hours. Wow I hadn’t slept that much in years, I must have been exhausted. Fresh and more optimistic this time around, I went about my day, checking my emails, brushing my teeth etc. After getting ready, I went down again and back to the transfer desk to be greeted by the same girl who was more optimistic this time. “I am 99% sure you will get it today sir.” Oh how I wish she was right. I come back to my room to a phone call. “It’s 7pm sir, this is your wake up call. Your flight is at 11:20pm.” Wow I could get used to this life I thought. Robed in just the bath robe, I made myself a cup of coffee, started nibbling on the complimentary grapes and sat down on the work desk to do some work. Oh it felt beautiful. Around 9:30 pm, optimistic, hopeful and ready to work all the way back to Atlanta, I arrived at gate 113 again. I saw the same folks from the day before, performing the same pre-flight tasks. Around 10, sure I that I will get on time around, I went up to the desk for a cursory question, “What’s the standby situation?” Recognizing me from the night before the woman at the counter said, “Bad sir.” My heart sinks yet again. I can’t stay here any longer. I have already rescheduled all my commitments from Monday, I can’t do that again. Once it is evident that there is no way I am getting on (They are even removing confirmed passengers), I decide that I need to get back to the US one way or the other. I start looking at the departure screen. Delta isn’t taking me back…

The credit card is swiped for a one way flight to London Heathrow at 2:20 am on British Airways. At this point nothing else matters, I just want to get out of here. How thankful I am to American Express for raising my credit limit just a few days ago. This trip has cost me way too much money by now. I am annoyed, irritated, upset, frustrated and all the negative emotions rolled into one. But instead I laugh out loud. Is this really happening?

I hold with me a confirmed ticket to London now and by the time this is published I will hopefully be back in the US.

If one were to be stuck anywhere, I think Dubai airport would make a great place. There is shopping, there are tons of food options, there are business centers, hotels, anything you might need if you’re stranded. Whilst here, I made some friends I think. I met my friend again who had retrieved my passport a day ago. He asked, “Sir Hi, still here?” I laughed and told him not for any longer hopefully. I swear he said bye to me like he was going to see me again very soon. Oh friend.
Then there was Jamaica, the girl at the hotel reception. She was probably from the Philippines. She was sweet and kind and always smiled at me. She had the ‘still here look’ when I went back to the hotel to get some free internet after I didn’t get the flight for days in a row. She must have known since she was the one who gave me wake up call.

Then there were the others, the girl at the Delta ticket desk, the woman at the Delta gate, the Delta agents who told me I wasn’t getting on, the Mcdonald’s crew (I ate there twice) and the countless others I’ve seen going about their work here.
Airports are great places to observe people and there is no better airport to do so than Dubai airport. It is such an incredible transit hub that you see people from everywhere going everywhere. Just walking around, I was fascinated to see the kinds of destinations the planes were flying to. Suddenly I remembered why I loved travelling. I get such a thrill in finding out where people are coming from and where they are going. To build a story around them just based on how they look and where they are going. Airports are great places to people watch but I think I have had it with Dubai airport for a while.

As I was scourging for a wall point to charge my laptop to write this, I started to reach for a plug point and so did this girl with her iphone. Marlene from Belgium told me it was okay and I could use it.
Me: Do you have a USB charger?
She: Yes (Pulls it out)
Me: I connect my laptop, you connect to my computer
She: Teamwork
I connect my laptop and she connects her phone to the laptop but it doesn’t work
She: It’s not happening. No teamwork
Me: It will. Believe in it.
The phone starts charging
Both: Rejoice and scream

She just took her phone as she was ready to board her flight to Brussels. “Bon soir Marlene,” I said.

We both fly out of DXB tonight, but many return to work another day.

Chasing a familiar tune in an unfamiliar land!

I think I am a pretty spontaneous person. Always up for adventures, always keen on doing something fun and different, always amidst the thick of things. However, the ‘madness’ that I pursued this past thanksgiving weekend makes old me look like a dull, boring run of the mill guy.

It was Wednesday before thanksgiving; I was giving a presentation in front of a handful of disinterested and dull mechanical engineers on a Vibrations experiment we performed a few weeks ago. This was the last thing any of us wanted to be doing instead of leaving for our thanksgiving breaks. Nonetheless it was over rather painlessly. I called the Lebanese embassy in DC to whom I had sent my passport on a sudden crazy whim a few days ago, expecting a negative response on the status of my visa. It was 11 am, when the lady at the other end said, “Yes it’s ready, you can come pick it up if you want.”

Rewind a week back. I was planning to do something for thanksgiving. The last month or so had been very intense with me working hard on school, even on the weekends and I was hell bent on abusing my Delta flight benefits to go somewhere far over this four day holiday. The turkey can wait for another time I thought. An outlandish idea popped in my head. I should go to Beirut, Lebanon to watch ‘Above and Beyond’ performing the 400th episode of their iconic ‘Trance Around the World’ show. Two things, one I love Above and Beyond and the music they make and this was something others that share this interest with me had jokingly talked about earlier in the year when we saw them playing at Electric Zoo in New York. Second, the idea was wild enough and the thought of visiting this liberal Middle Eastern nation was very tempting. I made some frantic calls to embassies and consulates to determine how I will get there and sent my passport over to the Lebanese embassy in DC and forgot about the trip.

The ‘yes’ on the other side of the call was one that I was dreading this Wednesday morning because I was just recovering from a pretty wild flu I caught a few days ago. I knew now that I could make this happen. Once I made the decision that I was going, everything after is a beautiful and crazy haze. I called my roommate Kyle, whose family lives in DC and who offered to get the passport picked up in the off chance that I would fly to DC to get my passport. Yep I decided do that. In between running home, throwing my stuff into two carry on bags, driving to the airport, explaining to my parents what I was doing, coordinating with Kyle’s mom, Paula Jennings (Thank you Paula, you made it possible), flying to DC and back, booking my hotel and concert ticket in some part of some airport, I was actually now on my flight, seat 40D flying to Dubai! My onward connection from Dubai had been booked based off me making this flight. Phew.

I had to pinch myself and look at the visa multiple times for it to sink in that this was actually happening. I was going to Lebanon for a concert! What a story it would make, and what a story it made!

My knowledge of Lebanon and of many countries in the Middle East is limited to capital names, geographic locations and maybe a little bit more. The only place I had been to was Dubai but then that doesn’t count. It’s too modern and liberal to foreigners for it to be a challenge (It's a slightly different story for locals). So here I was, not really knowing what to expect, except beautiful women and good Lebanese food (We all have gotten a taste of it, even if it’s the bastardized hummus they sell at supermarkets around).

I landed in Dubai and made my connection to Doha and onwards to Beirut easily. Met an interesting Romanian chap from Orange County who seemed to be travelling everywhere for the heck of it. He kept poking fun at the airline in his European twang, “This is one star service, not the five star service they advertised to me”, while searching for the advertisement in the inflight entertainment guide.

I landed at Rafic Al Hariri airport in Beirut at 2am and was a little nervous. Not knowing any Arabic, not knowing much about the land, having been on planes for more than 24 hours and it being late at night, made me a little weary. I didn’t want to look like a tourist, an outsider, but I guess I wasn’t good at the deception because the cabbie charged me $60 to my hotel. But he was a nice guy and offered me a cigarette when he wanted to smoke and made the kind of chit chat you engage in when you meet someone from a different country. The drive was uneventful barring my curiosity at anything I could pick up from the surroundings about where I was and what I were to expect. After a little hassle with the check in, (apparently the website I booked on had to get my visa details beforehand to get me the rate I thought I was getting which they hadn’t) I finally got a bed to myself and I was just glad for that. After struggling to sleep for a few hours I fell asleep to some old Hollywood film and didn’t wake till 2 in the afternoon.

I quickly got ready and packed my bag to head out into town to start exploring this city I had heard some good things about. My hotel was in a city called Jal el Dib (pronounced Jal-e-Deeb), which was a fair distance from Beirut. Lebanon is a very small country so when I say the two cities were far they were about 8-10 km apart. Jal el-dib was on a hill. It was un-kept, dirty in parts and had maddened cars going up and down the hills. Felt much like India. I started walking down the hill and came across a hole in the wall bakery and decided to enter. The conversations stopped and all eyes turned to me as I entered and found myself standing there dumb, as the menu was in Arabic. I reluctantly said something in French to the baker/cashier in what didn’t appear to be a functional eatery and he responded in the affirmative. To avoid any embarrassment, I ordered whatever he said and took a seat to feel like a ‘local’. In walked in a forty something or fifty something man, dressed in a nice shirt and jeans, with greying hair, carrying with him a black plastic bag that had two tomatoes. This man, Sam Obeid or Sam Stevens (his nickname he said), catholic, was soon to become my tour guide for the day.

The baker guy probably told Sam something about me and he started chit chatting with me and soon we were talking about Lebanon, America, India, why I was there and all that kind of stuff. Feeling a little more comfortable I asked him what I should do and where I should explore. I wanted a real experience of Lebanon I said. We had started munching on our delectable pizzas that the baker had rolled out and placed in the wood fired oven while in conversation. Sam shared some of his Lebanese tomatoes with me and to be honest they were very good; Firm and flavorful.

At some point during the conversation, Mr. Obeid had volunteered to lend his services to show me around town. I honestly don’t know when this happened but it did and I was once again a little apprehensive but to prove his worth he showed me the two thin books he was carrying in his hands. It was him who wrote them, well at least he tried. The English wasn’t the greatest, they didn’t seem edited either. But nonetheless he seemed to have a hobby. One was an espionage novel and the other was some sort of love/action/thriller novel. (The cover of this one had an Ak47, go figure). And when he opened the door to his 3 series BMW, I felt a little more rest assured. Before we went anywhere, I told him I needed to pick up my concert ticket from one of the Virgin stores around. Complications involved us having to look for a printer and go to a little internet café in an industrial town called Dora. This place had abandoned factories and cars that had rusted years ago and were now disintegrating. Armenian refugees lived in whatever stood amongst these falling buildings. However these were just the outskirts of the area and the inner streets were lined with shops and small restaurants. I was getting quite an experience but I was dying to see the beauty, the confluence of cultures and influences in the architecture that I had heard about.

We drove into downtown Beirut next. Traffic in all of Lebanon was wild and untamed, especially on this one main highway around the evening. We parked our car and started walking around. I was starting to see the beauty of this city. Downtown Beirut was a stark contrast to Jal-el-dib and the other part of town we had driven through; Smart, sophisticated and clean, with buildings that were neither entirely Arab nor European in design. Beirut is the oldest continuously occupied city in the world. The city was drowned 7 times and excavations found homes and remains of staircases and roofs that are for the public to see, built around 6000-7000 years ago. Walking around, out of nowhere, I saw perfectly intact Pillars from the Roman times. The kind I saw in Rome, absolutely magnificent. Recent times have seen a war within the country. The minority Muslims started fighting the majority Christians in the city. There was a ‘green line’ that separated the city between the Muslim side and the Christian side. People had to take up arms to protect what was theirs and Sam himself defended his country from being burnt to the ground. The war is over and it is the Sunnis that are fighting with Shia’s now. The landscape of the city is gorgeous in parts and interspersed around are buildings that were torn down in the war that still stay intact in that condition. There was another kind of beauty in such a stark juxtaposition.

In my time in Beirut till now, I had deciphered that the Lebanese are a generally liberal people. The clothes they wear, the way women and men interact in public for the most part and the way they go out (bars and clubs), seemed to suggest this was very progressive for a region that is very regressive and behind the times. Something that caught my attention soon, was the languages spoken in this country. Arabic, French and English are the languages that are spoken here and it is not uncommon to find educated Lebanese to switch between any of these three. Sort of like the Hinglish we have in India, more like the Frabic if you may?!

I was enjoying my walking tour, after all, despite the slight weirdness that I had begun to sense from Sam (Who was he, did he not work, why was an old man so interested in checking out women), he was giving me a pretty good sighter of the city. Our walking wandering led us to a boardwalk by the water called the Cornish. What a lively spot this was. From joggers and children on skates, roller boards and bmx bikes to couples, people walking their dogs and families fishing from over the ledge. Sam was in a rather chatty mood and soon we (he was) part of a conversation with a man walking a dog. We were soon joined by a Muslim woman who turned out to be a local classical singer. She made me listen to some of her songs on her phone. They were splendid. This was followed be a few more conversations as we walked along, Sam trying to show me that the Lebanese are very friendly love to mingle.

To say the world is a small place is such an understatement. As we were listening to a live band perform in front of a small crowd in an open air market (souk), Sam started to chat with one girl (he was feeling rather very chatty and would always start with, "I am a writer and would show them his books"), who then he introduced to me saying, “Even he is from America.” Paying little attention, I then overheard that she was from Georgia. It turned out she was from Roswell and her friend with her went to Emory. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to get rid of Sam and didn’t want to impose this old, slightly creepy man on these young girls so we bid adieu.

I was getting a little annoyed now and wanted to get time to myself but knew that he would probably want some money for his time, (He had hinted this in the beginning) but I wasn't sure how much. I told him I was hungry and then in the up and down way it had been going with him, he took to me a great little Lebanese sandwich shop that was packed to the brim with regulars. This was going to be good and it so was! The toasted freshly baked bread roll, had a blend of peppers, chicken, some sort of sauce and a whole lot of goodness (Was called a Fahita sandwich, cost $2.5). Sam only asked me to give him money for gas and I was pleased that he didn’t try to thug me or loot me and genuinely wanted me to experience Lebanon and leave with a good taste. I told him I would call him the next day but I didn't.

I awoke on day 2 with the confidence I needed to go about discovering the city on my own. I didn’t have a plan. I just wanted to get back to downtown Beirut. So I started walking, and walking and walking some more. I figured I had enough time to walk to Beirut (8-10 km), just knowing that I had to keep going on the one main highway. For my Indian readers, this highway felt like the Ring Road. Shops and localities all along the way, so cars would just abruptly stop to pick up some food or a cake from their favourite bakery and block traffic that was otherwise supposed to be flowing smoothly. As I evaded traffic even on the sidewalks, I got inquiries from taxis, buses, merchants but I kept walking confidently, amused and intrigued at the similarities in some things around the world. It took me 3 hours, walking sometimes on the main road, sometimes in back alleys but I made it to the city center. It was a great walk and I saw what locals did, where they ate etc. I even stumbled across Gemyazee, a swanky street in Beirut with trendy bars, clubs and cafes. We had visited here briefly the night before and it had the hip crowd of Beirut rubbing shoulders. I saw it in a completely new and wonderful light in the afternoon when these places were still closed.

I walked into a very colorful looking designer clothes store called ‘Lulu et Moi’ (Lulu and me) and was trying to decipher whether it was just a girls store or whether it was a baby girls store. The lady in the store started a conversation with me in French which delighted me to no extent. We chatted and laughed and she was amused and fascinated to know I was there just for the concert. As a parting note, she said “No Marriage. Marriage is tension.” It’s in moments like these, when French flows out wonderfully and the other party is responsive and mindful that I need to be spoken to slowly, that I tell myself that I need to be well versed and fluent in what to me is the most beautiful language on the tongue and to the ears.

In Downtown Beirut, I took residence at one of the many cafes with outdoor seating, with a sheesha and a platter of hummus to myself. As I smoked the sheesha and relaxed my tired feet, I was feasting my eyes on the surrounding buildings and found myself in a happy reflective state of mind. Walking around a little more I discovered a gorgeous mall which was called the ‘Beirut Souks.’ The mall blended in with the architecture around and was set in an open layout with no overlying roof over the entire thing. It was indeed one of a kind. Jihad, my cabby I found for $10 (I was improving) was a very happy and chatty guy. Told me he loved America and the Iphone when he saw mine, kept pulling my leg and shaking my hand and every now and then out of nowhere in his Arabic accent would say, “Fuck this shit, fuck this car”, cursing the traffic. What a tremendous two days of discovering the city it had been. I had gotten a real look into Lebanon with the limited time and resources I had. Despite the success up till now, the crowning glory of the trip, Above and Beyond, Trance Around the World 400 was yet to happen. Music was about to happen!

‘Trance Around the World’ is Above and Beyond’s weekly podcast they do that features the best of trance/electronic of the week and some of their own music. This was the 400th episode and was being celebrated in the form of a colossal live event being broadcast live across the world. The live radio show had acts from Jaytech, Kyau and Albert, Above and Beyond, Gareth Emory and the young and madly talented Mat Zo. It was to go from 10pm-6am. A marathon dance party. The venue was the Forum de Beyrouth, a huge industrial sort of space with concrete floors and an open layout; ideal for a large gathering trying to cause an epic noise.

The excitement was palpable as the event started off. We knew that people from around the world were tuning into this over live stream but it hadn’t sunk in how big this really was. When above and beyond came on at 1am, the crowd went wild, I went wild. They are the dorkiest, most adorable looking three guys from Britain (Finish roots); Jono, Pavo and Tony. At some point in their set, they wrote this on the screen, “We’ve been #1 on twitter since 11pm”. Wow, I was at an event that was the most trending topic on twitter! The euphoria of that aside, the event was electric. The crowd was respectful, appreciative and loud. The dj’s were creative, pumped and psyched to be there. What the crowd got was, 8 hours of absolute dance music bliss. As I start thinking about what I was a part of, I feel privileged and glad I was able to be a part of such a huge and monumental celebration.

I am on one of my flights back, somewhere in some airport, tired and looking to just sleep, but I cannot stop smiling at the thought of this crazy getaway of mine.

Lebanon was a wonderful mix of religions, cultures, history and traditions. The people were friendly and keen to help, the city boasted of great cuisine, art and culture. I felt comfortable from the get go. The music was a bonus and what a bonus it was.

One thing I have noticed in my travels is that conflicts around the world stem from similar things. People want power and the minorities tend to rise up and demand for what they believe should be theirs. Sometimes it is violent sometimes it is peaceful. At the music venue, there were people from different countries, different walks of life and even different religions. This was a diverse group of people to say the least and what brought them together was their sole love for this music. Music transcends all boundaries, makes people forget their sorrows and elevates them to a happier place. That is what I love about 'Above and Beyond'. Their music is great but what’s greater is their ability to mix it with pure joy and serve it with that extra dose of love!

Lyrics of one of their songs go, “Don’t forget about a thing called Love.” We should all embrace that motto in our daily lives. Spread love, not hate!

What a trip. What a time. What an experience. The memories tattooed in my heart! To all the characters I met along the way, thank you for a wonderful experience.

(Pictures coming soon)
Side Note: Dollars and Lira (1500 lira to a dollar) are readily exchangeable. You can get Lira's or Dollars from ATM's and the rate is fixed.
Side Side note: I didn't get my flight back to Atlanta and have been living at an airport hotel at Dubai airport. Pretty memorable it is. The window I have overlooks the transfer counter and beyond that is the tarmac. Hopefully will make it out in a few hours.

It Hurts so Good!

What I find appealing about writing over narrating a story is that one gets to capture a snapshot of an incident whereas a narration is dynamic and ever changing. Here's a capture of some strong yet important emotions in my present.

A loss, I always thought and believed, is an opportunity to reflect, introspect and grow as an individual. I took these so called losses in my stride and kept chugging along with my goals and ideals in mind. Never did I let anything disturb me or derail me from my perpetual state of happiness. It was unnatural I was told by many, as humans must feel pain and sorrow to really appreciate and feel the good times. I reflected, wondered why I was so lucky that I was bestowed with so much happiness and joy, whereas many around me suffered and struggled to even get a meal a day. I kept a calm head, never getting too carried away, believing that it was a result of my fortune and my own hard work and commitment. It felt odd that I was feeling so upbeat all the time. How could I be so blind to the realities of the world they said? I started to preempt a loss, a significant loss at that!

I thrive on human interaction; the camaraderie, the warmth, the sensitivities, the companionship and the physical touch. Relationships are like plants, they require constant nourishment and supervision. Time and effort are the soil and water that are essential to a successful bond. I really cherish the relationships I have and as a result stake myself selflessly in them. Alas that comes with a huge risk.. Is the risk worth it I ask?

All relationships are bound to see their share of highs and lows but what's important to note is how those involved act during the lows. Mis-communication, distrust, jealousy and distance are just a few things that might take an otherwise solid and beautiful relationship downhill. The challenges lie here in...

One of the most precious things I had in recent times, was not an expensive car, a limited edition watch or any other worldly possession, but my relationship with a girl named Sana. If you were to ask me a few months ago what my biggest fear was, I'd have said, losing her. That too without a heartbeat. Our relationship was something I treasured, each and every moment of it. It was a fairy tale story; Something you'd expect in the next bestselling novel. It had everything, it was all I wanted. It was all she wanted too. But like all good things, this relationship came to an end. And unfortunately, for once I don't know how to prevent it from becoming a distant and faint memory of a beautiful time in my past! :(

This post is not about what happened but about how I feel. I want to capture the emotions before I start feeling better or even worse, indifferent. I was ready for the break up in one sense but also caught completely off guard in another sense. Let me be more lucid.

With the events of the recent past, I knew somewhere deep down that it was probably better for both of us to be single and live our lives on our own but I didn't admit that to myself. The times we spent together were still as beautiful and memorable as in the past, that I didn't want to accept that we were way too serious for how old we were. In that sense I was expecting it.

But on the other hand, I hadn't prepared myself for it. Never entertained the thought of a life without her. And that's what got me. As much as I would like to believe it's hard for both of us, at the end of the day I wasn't ready and she was... And that's where the drift begins...

I am a very free spirited individual; doing things on a whim without thinking too much about the consequences or outcomes. It makes life exciting. I was the same in my relationship, never restrictive, never prohibitive, believing that we both must be together till we both WANT to be together. It worked well. I didn't know how to deal with the day she'd want different things. Which I believe is not wrong. I just feel I was left in the dark. Drifting, lured into believing everything was alright, while it was quite the contrary. Maybe subconsciously she was figuring out what she was feeling and it took her a very long time and a lot of courage to say what she truly felt. My heart broke. So did hers. But I wasn't ready... And that's where the strife begins...

There is no set formula to moving on or getting on with your life when a significant part of your life is suddenly non existent. In every sense, it was a rude and cold awakening. More so because I had a lot of catching up to do. If moving on had 10 stages with 1 being shocked, depressed and completely out of place and 10 being completely over the other person, I was probably at 1 and she was already at 4. I want to reiterate that I don't blame her but blame myself a little for not realizing what went on. One of the hardest things to deal with is hearing about their world post you. It's not a world you want to hear about at all. Didn't I want her to be miserable or sad? I did, but I couldn't ask her to be, I had no right anymore. So here I was for the first time, with the magnitude of emotions I felt for this girl, but only me to share them with... And that's when the heart aches...

I now knew that this was the 'loss' I hadn't yet experienced. Something that came from nowhere, like a cold punch from the side. Tears came out freely, the mind couldn't stop wandering, the heart wouldn't stop feeling heavy. I felt sick, I felt like I wanted to gag, I felt like I couldn't breathe. The pain was very real, very raw. It was me against the memories. Me against the past with a very positive future beckoning. It could only get better I told myself. The memory can only become fainter I thought to myself... And that's when the character builds...

I wouldn't like to believe that my story with Sana is over. It's far from over. With where we are in our respective lives, our paths may or may not cross ever again. It greatly pains me to think that there is a very real possibility that I might not have any association with the girl I wanted nothing but all the association with. The future as always is uncertain, but also there will be no effort to redirect destiny to make our paths cross again... And that's how the reality is understood and accepted...

I need my space and my time to get to where she is. To be able to understand and be there for her. To be a friend without feeling envious or hurt. To make sure I am not hurt again. There are issues she needs to sort out in her life. I will always be there for her. Maybe only in memory at first and hopefully an actual part sometime later. My only helpless hope is that she remembers me too. She remembers us for what we were, for what we went through. For I never loved anyone more dutifully, more respectfully and more fondly.

Sana Afsar, I will always cherish what we had and it hurts too much to not have you anymore. But alas, that's life and there's little I can do now. My doors will be open for when you know what you want and understand fully well what I have been through.... And that's how it Hurts so Good! :( , :D

When good things come to an end..

What Electronic Music means to me!

The last year or so has seen a lot of changes in my life and one of the more significant ones has been my introduction and pretty immediate patronage to the world of Electronica, House and Trance music. I find myself talking about it and listening to it incessantly, enough that I thought it warranted a post solely about what electronica is and why it must be regarded as highly as any other form of music excellence. Here is an ode to a genre of music that has blown me away!

When people think DJ, what comes to mind is a youngish tatooed fella, drink in one hand, half burnt cigarette in mouth, apparently spinning some sort of discs essentially playing some music. Though we all love them and won't be having the good time we do at clubs, parties and weddings, many don't regard dj'ing more than a hobby and definitely don't credit the 'hobby' to be a worthy source of music production. (It's just a guy/girl mixing tracks together). A singer or a composer, now that's music we'd say. It's time to challenge that notion and look a little further for what Electronica has to offer is a deeper and more surreal music experience. Let me explain..

Till a few years ago, my knowledge of House/Trance music was very rudimentary and was limited to some of the big name DJ's; Tiesto, Armin Van Buren,Benny Benassi and maybe David Guetta (He was just bursting onto the scene). These were the guys I knew, not necessarily liked. I went for a concert at a club here and there and happened to really enjoy the energy that these guys brought to an event. I was still an amateur, not knowing what I was getting into, not realizing I was in the midst of some great musicians. To the outside world, Electronica music is about raves and drugs and all that is wrong with society. That used to be rock and roll at one time right? How could someone enjoy music without any lyrics and just beats and tunes all night long, cynics would say. They have to be drugged they'd reason!

Oh how my world changed when I went to the Electric Zoo Festival in New York City, September 2010. A fellow enthusiast of this music, Akshay Goil, was the one who had hyped events like these and though I was keen on being part of the trance experience, I had a hidden interest of seeing my girlfriend who had just moved to New York. I bought the ticket. $270 poorer, I wasn't sure what this 2 day extravaganza in the open would have to offer. More so would I be able to take it for 12 hours a day.. Time would tell, that I would be left begging for more...

It's only fitting that I am writing this as I have a really great set playing on my Ipod to really get me into the zone of how I feel when I am consuming this music...

I arrived at Randall's Island, a little island between Manhattan and Queens, the venue of this Zoo thing and right away was impressed by the huge gathering of people. There were 3 big stages with one dj after the other continuously till 11pm. People came in all sorts of attire ready to have a great time. The more colorful and striking your outfit was the more at home you felt. Everything about this up till now suggested a big rave going out of control, kids with no purpose in life wasting their money, there only for the show and drugs than the 'music'. It didn't take more than one set (A dj on stage playing his music or 'set') for me to realize that this was something else! When the music came on, it did not matter who you were, what you were wearing or who was around you or how you felt or if you knew how to dance or not or if you cared for the music or not. All that mattered was that you were elevated into a realm of pure joy and pleasure and your body almost reacted in a natural way just like one learns how to walk. The body swayed, the hands flayed, the head bobbed; Jumps, kicks, squats, elaborate dance moves, gymnastics, dives, everything was fair game. There seemed to be a rhythm to the way the crowd moved, as drops in beat were followed by even crazier drops in beat. It was almost surreal to be just dancing and not giving even the slightest thought to what we all looked like.

The entire festival was back to back to back sets into the night that just blew the mind away. Some played up beat tracks and some played tracks that would suck you in, entrancing you in their hold and then suddenly releasing you when you least expected. Enjoying Electronic music requires losing your fear of being judged or laughed at. It's like a free fall, the more you are at ease the more you will enjoy it. The key is not to be impatient but to soak in the journey the 'artist' (dj) is trying to take you on. Many a time you can sense the artist trying to play the crowd, lulling them into a nice calm state with some melodic tunes and then when least expected, boom, into a different realm, a different tempo, a different feel.
It's a story that must be heard patiently and attentively.

Many a contemporary artist will play their brand of music, often composed by themselves (notable examples DeadMau5, Chemical Brothers, Tiesto, AVB etc.) but they will play a little more upbeat music at festivals as crowds are looking for a high energy event. Electronic Dance Music or EDM is what House Music is; Upbeat, fast paced, big highs and lows. Trance on the other hand can be a little more harder to enjoy as it really requires submitting yourself to the music. Not thinking, just letting your mind flow with the music. If one is able to do so successfully, not let the problems of the world wander into ones perception, there is nothing like getting lost in a trance track.

I am going to add links to some things EDM to get readers an idea of what I might be talking about.

Why I decided to write this was because I felt that it would be a good challenge to try and express the emotions I feel when I listen to this music. To be honest I don't feel I've done justice to it and it's one of those things you have to submit yourself to, let it affect you! For me the Electronica experience is a pure experience between me and the music. No adulteration, no distraction, just a connection between the mind, body and soul. I really do mean it when I say I thoroughly enjoy all the nuances and fine points of this genre. It's sometimes the unsaid that can say so much more than the said. That's what electronic music is in my opinion, an art form wherein the 'artist' expresses himself/herself through sounds and images that can be interpreted one way or the other. In it's pure form it's absolutely brilliant.

I hope that next time someone hears or thinks about this genre, they think twice before dismissing it. Yes there are a lot of wannabe, second rate dj's but there are some truly gifted musicians as well.
It's like when you first try a different cuisine and you're apprehensive. But one time you give it an honest shot and you fall for it entirely. That's what happened to me.

I heart ELECTRONICA!! And I mean it!

p.s. Did I mention that I don't use any drugs or alcohol while at these concerts. Pure 100% adrenalin!! Cheers

A Quest of Sorts

This post, unlike the last two is about my travels. Not too much soul searching going on in this one. Sorry. Let's talk about the time I went to the Capital. The Capital of the United States they call America.

When I think of American cities, I think interstates, fast food joints by the dozen, big buildings, big houses, suburbs and the odd attraction here and there. Obviously there are a few cities (I have not been to all American cities so pardon me if I miss any) like New Orleans, Atlanta (yes even Atlanta), Nashville, Los Angeles, New York City, Chicago etc. that bring more to the table and might not be your run of the mill big sized American city. I had been hearing some rave reviews about Boston and Washington DC for some time and decided to go visit a friend working at MPAC (Muslim Public Affairs Council) for a weekend. Oh was I in for a surprise!

As the MD-90 aircraft scooped low, the Potomac river gently flowing beneath, the gleaming building of Downtown DC to the right, the plane made a sharp right towards the runway at Ronald Reagan International airport(DCA). Walking quickly onto the metro trying to meet up with my friend as soon as possible, I briefly glanced at the first brief sightings of the city. After getting of in an Area called Van Ness, we caught up on the happenings in our lives on the way to dinner. Dark and warm outside, the road appeared wide and was lined with trees. Good sign I thought to myself. I was informed this was a sort of residential and quiet area and was pleasantly surprised by the host of charming and classy restaurants that lined this slightly buzzing street. My first night in DC was to end in the apartment without much excitement.. I didn't know what to expect from the most important city in the world..

As the sunlight seeped in through the large windows in the room, I groggily awoke to what seemed like a familiar sight. There were two large trees that stood astute outside the window reminiscent of my room in Delhi and the plethora of green you surprisingly find there. Was this going to be a green city? You bet it was.
We headed in the metro towards Metro Center station, the center so as to speak of the city. This also happened to be the area of Washington DC's annual Gay Pride Parade happening this very weekend I was there! What struck me at once about this city was the wide roads, abundance of trees (surprisingly you don't see enough in big cities here) and the architecture of homes on show. The old and well restored, blending well with the new styles and designs of modern buildings. It felt grand, it felt magnificent, it felt right. As we gallivanted, turning corners at a whim looking for a place to eat, I spotted a Pho restaurant (Vietnamese rice noodle soup, absolutely delicious). Sipping on the fatty beef soup that was bursting with flavor, we sat at a table overlooking the street outside when it suddenly began. The parade was going to pass through there.. The next few hours were to be the funnest few hours I have spent for free. The parade came with a watch at your own discretion tag, but for the daring and adventurous, the gay, the lovers of celebration and the odd person that found him/her there, it was a truly colorful parade. Floats after floats, decked up, music blaring, graffiti and knick knacks flying, dancers dancing, people campaigning, water splashing, the parade had it all! For those a little taken aback and shocked at my enjoyment of such a celebration, most people that came through the parade merely showed their support and were not trying to impose themselves on the audience. It was a big celebration and it was great to see the way the Capital embraced it lovingly. I ended up with everything from a bouncy ball, candy and float to sunglasses, beads and sun screen lotion. Thoroughly entertaining.

The next few hours were to really win my heart over. As we walked away from the street that had been chaotic and colorful just a little while ago, we crossed over a bridge and were inadvertently walking towards Georgetown. What I saw as we randomly walked were absolutely gorgeous homes, the kinds you would see in parts of Europe. Homes with large doors, bold colors, backyards, front yards, big bay windows, all this in the heart of the city literally. My fascination with trees lies in that I lived in Delhi which has one of the highest green cover for a city its size and density. That's what I was loving about walking about these streets, there was a certain calm that the canopy of trees brought to this otherwise semi busy street. Each home was different, built in a different style, used different colors, oriented the windows and doors differently, but they all gelled well together and brought out, the 'Oh how marvelous' kind of expression!

What lay ahead is hard to describe and not something I thought existed outside some charming European cities. Georgetown, the famous area known for the University of the same name had boutique stores, quirky restaurants, art galleries, mom and pop stores alongside lamp posts and bushes of violet and white flowers. It felt like you were not in the US anymore. Not the US I had know up till then. It seemed like there were regulations regarding haphazard and unregulated construction as all stores in this area were built into old homes adding that extra charm. The area was abuzz with youngsters from the surrounding areas but it still seemed private enough. One of the things that really stuck out about DC was despite the myriad of people around, there is always space to be with yourself, to not be bothered if you might want that. Bustling yet peaceful, Wild yet Serene is the impression I was getting.

The icing on the cake was when in our nomadic quest through the city on foot, we ended up at the river. As we walked on the grass between interracial couples, people walking their pets and a few quiet families there to soak in the view, we found ourselves a spot by the bank and dangled our feet over the concrete. The water couldn't have been more still, the air couldn't have been more pleasant, the atmosphere couldn't have been better. Up above, as a plane made a sharp right towards the runway at DCA, a well lit yacht filled with people in Tuxedos and dresses calmly moved along the water in front of us and the trees and flowers swayed to the tune of the breeze besides us, it was apparent why I had instantly loved the city; Buzzing one minute and Blissful and calm another, exactly what the 21 year old me looks for in a place. Action and Inaction very close to each other!

The next morning I went and saw the things I couldn't have left without seeing; the White House, the Smithsonian, the Capital building. Not to take away anything from these structures, it was the small things like the clean metro, the big roads, the diverse crowd, the quirky places around, the unique pace of the city etc. that had already given this city a 10/10 in my books.

As my plane made a sharp left, as we scooped up this time, I wondered if this could be a city I could see myself living in! Why not I thought! Whether that happens or not, visits to this city in the future are inevitable!