The Power of Love

Tonight, the tears aren't stopping... Ironically, it's been a great night with friends. As I lay down in my bed, my safe haven, my emotions poured out; the heart bled..

I have put on a very calming radio station in the background and I want to say something, just anything..

Life has been very kind to me, things have always worked out. But it hasn't been without it's share of challenges...

I choose to be happy, ever smiling, because life is beautiful..

We are all born into loving families. Grow up with friends around us, and if we're lucky, have significant others. It is human nature to always find happiness elsewhere: a thing, a place or a person. The unfortunate reality is that at the end of day, we are all our sole guardians...

Ever since I can remember, love has been my preferred weapon to fight any situation. In fighting amongst family or friends, I always reciprocated with a true gesture of the heart...

It takes real courage to stake one's heart and lay it out in the open. Many a person is too afraid of being hurt, of not getting their love returned; What a pity, since the most human growth happens when experiencing the pain..

Love conquers all; I am a firm practitioner and believer of the philosophy. Equipped with such an all encompassing tool, I feel invincible, stronger than the strongest of men. Nothing can touch me, for I have gambled with the best hand..

Above and Beyond are my favorite dance musicians. I connect with their songs on an all together different level. Group Therapy as they like to call their concerts, are truly a liberating experience. Lyrics to a song go.." Don't forget about a thing called Love.." . The crowds sway, the sounds reach the skies, the eyes close... It's Group Therapy! :D

I feel privileged being the recipient of the love of so many! I would not trade it for anything else..

They always said life was full of challenges, throwing surprises out of nowhere. It's been quite a challenge, quite a ride, but I've loved every moment of it. Happiness isn't measured in material wealth but rather in the richness of human interaction..

I'm not sure what prompted this today.. Maybe it's whats happened recently. Maybe it's the fact that I've had to keep a strong front, smiling to keep the spirits of friends high. Whatever it is, I feel thankful for those in my life. You know who you are..

A perfect end maybe.. "Love isn't there to make us happy. I believe it exists to show us how much we can endure." - Herman Hesse

Call, email, or text someone you love, telling them you cherish them.

Goodnight

When you lose somebody...

March 11th would have been just another Sunday; lazing around the house with my roommates, preparing for the week ahead, performing household chores; But one phone call turned my world upside down, making Sunday, March 11, the most unforgettable Sunday of my life.

The last few weeks have been a blur. The passing away of our beloved friend was met with sheer disbelief. Within a matter of 30 minutes of finding out the news, about 20 near and dear ones were gathered at my place. The silence was deafening. What an irony that the very same house that had been the place of joy and celebration the day before for a 'Holi' celebration became a place of mourning less than 24 hours later...

Everything after that was an emotional roller-coaster. Calls were made, received from all over the world; shock was the underlying emotion. Everyone took each other under their wings, tears, many tears were shed...

We go through life thinking we know how to react to and tackle the hardest of situations. It's one thing knowing what to do and another when actually faced with one. This was new to almost all of us, we didn't know what to do; whether to piece the story together or to cry or to blame someone or to be there for each other.

I don't think I cried properly till the day of the funeral. On entering the funeral home, I saw a slideshow of images, of Akshay smiling, laughing and being himself. Not being one for crying in public, even though I have always embraced tears, something gave way, and I bled my soul for a person who had made a lasting impression on me.

Akshay Goil, what happened man? What about the countless plans we had together?

I made the decision to see him after much internal debate. Did I want to see him in his final state and have that stick with me or keep that cheerful face in my head...

I walked up to him, his face serene, his body still; How I wish you woke up then and said something...

During that week which seemed to last a lifetime, we had to be there for the family. What unfortunate circumstances we met under, but it seems like we all found a new family in them...

Tears are wonderful. Pain is beautiful. My favorite song across genres and languages has lyrics that go something like this.. "Dil hai toh dard bhi hoga, dard hai toh dil bhi hoga." (If there is a heart there must be hurt, and if there is hurt there must be a heart). It's an emotion that lays a man bare, weak, and vulnerable. We were all, all those things..

Life has seemingly come back to normal, but I find myself walking around on campus, seeing him everywhere I was used to seeing him. Time is a healer they say, and I am sure it is but today after about 3 weeks, I just feel like saying, I really miss you Akshay Goil...


I had never experienced death up-close before. Had never thought of how I'd react to it or what I would feel. I might not know it yet, but an incident like this changes ones perspective on many things. The emotions are still raw and the memories fresh. A small part of me still thinks he will show up at my doorstep someday soon. I guess, all these feelings are part of the process.

How long should one grieve? Is it wrong to move on? To smile and proceed with life? There was an emptiness within, I wanted to unload my emotions... Taking a few moments to let the thoughts flow uninhibited worked wonders. To face whatever emotion surfaces at the thought of what happened is crucial to arrive at the acceptance..

Tomorrow is another day. Today is about to be history. Must not dwell in the past, yet must always carry Akshay's memory into the future!

A blueberry in a tomato soup

This piece isn’t about a new gastronomic creation or a trendy new bistro in town but is about a city. A city that has a vibe extraordinaire, a city that prides itself on its hippie influences, a city that has the calm but also the storm, a city that bleeds burnt orange; Austin, Texas.

My American travel endeavors had taken me to cities in Florida, in the south, to the East coast, to the west coast, to the big easy, but never to Texas; A state that in itself is 20% the size of India by land mass. So when the opportunity presented itself to make a visit and meet a friend, I wasn’t going to let that pass.

Narayan Bhargava, a fellow globetrotter (Though for business reasons not exploration, sorry Narayan) went to University of Texas in Austin (UT) and graduated last year. Presently he spends half the year in Houston working and makes trips to Austin to visit his Alma matter and the soon to be introduced mad bunch or what they like to call themselves, the residents of “The Casa des Los Indianos.” ™ He had been egging me on to visit Austin while I was working for Delta and for some reason or the other, I could never make it happen. But I didn’t forget the offer.

I was picked up at the Airport on Friday evening by 2 of the bunch, Neil (Made an epic Mardi gras trip last year with him) and a guy named Mihir that I hadn’t met before. Narayan was still on his way from Houston. On the ride home, the usual chit chat was followed by history of UT and a short tour of the college campus. The iconic UT tower was lit up burnt orange and looked magnificent from all directions. The tower is lit up in the school’s colors whenever they win a game in any sport or on other important occasions like graduation…

‘The Casa des Los Indianos’™ was what you would expect from a house with 6 residents and anyone else welcome any time; Bodies everywhere, half drank plastic bottles, solo cups, take-out food strewn around as part of the house décor. Not only were there a lot of people but everyone had 2 or 3 names making it just a bit confusing for me. First stop: Trudys for dinner and Mexican Martinis.

Trudys with its indoor-outdoor setting, hipster waiters and a deadly martini was a great way to start off the night. The crowds were loud, the drink was sweet but potent and the inside jokes kept flowing. The waiters would not serve you more than 2 Mexican martinis, so go figure. Another interesting situation I found myself in was the fact that most of the group was vegetarian. I was the meat eating minority for the first time. It didn’t bother me but I was just surprised at how such a big group of vegetarians became friends. Wonder if the love of Tofu brought them together?!

The big attraction for the night was 6th Street; THE 6th street rather. Austin is the capital of Texas and a big portion of the population is either affiliated to UT or has moved from elsewhere for work. At the heart of downtown is a street lined with bars on both sides, that has the city descend on it in the evenings. The street is distinctly divided into West six, the classier slightly elder crowd and the ‘Dirty Six’, visited by the rambunctious college crowd. As we approached ‘Dirty Six’, I could already see why Sixth Street in Austin is one of ‘THE’ places to party in the US. An atmosphere like no other, there were people everywhere, laughing, singing, dancing, having the time of their lives. Drinks were cheap, bars were plenty and the crowd was in a mood to party. We visited a few bars and that was enough. What a vibe, what a place! New Orleans Bourbon street isn’t as fun as this! Yes I just said that.

A visit to the local doner place, ‘Kebabalicious’, impromptu singing sessions at home and a few controversies later, it was time to call an end to the night. The 10-11 of us found a nook, or a corner or a couch…
Day 2 in Austin and it was Sunny and gorgeous. The sun beating down, the incredible fauna and flora in and around the campus gleaming, we started the day by visiting a trailer restaurant. Trailer restaurants are quite a rage in Austin and that’s where the hip crowd grabs a bite. Nomad Dosa was a vegan twist to a very popular South Indian rice crepe; A friendly staff, trendy patrons but disappointing food. Sahil’s (Another protagonist) blue litmus test, the masala dosa, didn’t impress. The Mexican coke made from real cane sugar was a refreshing taste.

One thing that was apparent already was that it felt like I was part of a sitcom. The 10-12 characters that went in and out of the house had their quirks and made this ‘show’ worth being part off. They had all been warm and welcoming the night before, but that ended when the house Hookah was lit up. Like wild piranhas, all decency and hospitality was thrown out the window, as they grabbed, prodded, and sometimes insulted for the pipe of the Sheesha. To prevent bickering over this, they visit one of two Sheesha bars, Kasbah (Middle Eastern influences) and Arab Cowboys (Grunge feel). And they visit a lot.

Mihir and a few of us decided to drive around on this beautiful day while the others ate. Austin was lush and the wide panoramas offered great views. We drove up to the 360 bridge that offered unparalleled views of the surrounding area and Downtown in the far background. We hiked up a rock face hanging over the calm waters of Lake Austin below and the bridge to our left. We sat, and we took it all in.

A beautiful day such as this wasn’t going to be wasted indoors. We went to a place called Abel’s by the lake; A gorgeous patio over the lake Austin, and 60 beers on tap made this an ideal setting for a ‘kick back and relax’ sort of day. We bathed in the sunshine and I tried my first Texas Tea. Whatever it was, it was delicious. Refreshing, sparkling and a wide array of alcohols meant it wasn’t just a tasty treat.

On the way back, I got a tour of the campus; the business school, the engineering school, frat houses and everything. The Longhorn Stadium (UT football team’s stadium) with a capacity of 100,000 people is the sixth largest stadium in the world. UT is similar to Georgia Tech, a campus within a city. However it is much bigger.

In the evening, there was supposed to be a House Party for Shitij’s birthday (Sahil’s brother and another resident). The bunch got to work to tidy the main space for the party. The mess was cleaned, but merely moved for the most part. Many took naps, went and grabbed food and of course got their daily fix of Sheesha. Night was upon us.

The party began slowly and in parts. Other characters joined the existing bunch and a great night ensued. There was Simi, who smashed the birthday cake on Shitij’s face and then left with ego hurt, when taunts were made at his inconsideration. There was Colleen, Shitij’s girlfriend and person responsible for bringing the other two white girls to the party. There was Kasim from Pakistan, who was hell bent on playing Punjabi music for every-time he took a big swig of the tequila. And there was dancing!

Jokes aside, I had a splendid weekend made possible by the very warm and hospitable bunch. They made me feel very welcome and took it upon themselves to show me a good time, to give me a feel of all things Austin. There was controversy, there was drama, there was mayhem, but there was a great friendship that bound them together despite the madness…

Sunday was spent reminiscing over 6 hookahs between 10 people at Arab Cowboys. The sun shone even more brilliantly and I felt sad at the thought of leaving. I got to experience Austin thoroughly in my few days there. The blend of relaxation and partying was reflective of the city itself. Served crazy or calm, as per the heart’s desire.

Many asked me if I found it better than Atlanta or if UT was better than GT and I said it wasn’t right to put me in that position. To ask me to compare my beloved home, my Atlanta of 5 years with this new vibrant city that had embraced me for a weekend was not fair, almost outlandish. Though I didn’t answer that question then, the blue dot in the red state that is Austin, features in my list of cities I’d like to own a home in one day; New Delhi, London, Cape Town and now Austin.

The modern day relationship

Society, we all complain, isn’t the same anymore. There is always a shortage of time, technology has infiltrated all realms of our world and relationships are viewed very differently.

As a young adult who grew up in this changing world, I have seen the idea of relationships evolve. I am old enough to have heard stories of and seen movies of lovers having to wait weeks, months and sometimes even years to hear from each other because of the distances, limited communication methods and the lack of technology as we know it today. On the flipside I am also young enough that I have been a part of this wave of change that has given birth to the modern day relationship.

The internet was a huge breakthrough for mankind. Information from anywhere was available anywhere else instantly. E-mail was even bigger, people being able to send virtual letters to others with immediate access. Then came chat, video conferencing, social media, smart phones, cloud computing, etc. etc.

I still remember how my parents were flabbergasted when I wanted to get a mobile phone (cellphone) in 10th grade. I had held back the urge to ask for one until I saw every one of my peers in school get one. After much resistance and furor they eventually relented, making it very clear how big a deal it was and how much responsibility the phone brought with it….

Soon after I met Sana in England, I was back in India and she was still in England. Having just met an incredible girl, the only means I had to foster any relationship with this person was through the plethora of options available via the web. We started off by exchanging facebook messages. These messages kept growing in length and we would eagerly await the other person’s message every morning as we woke up. Soon we added to our daily facebook messages, msn chat (Instant messaging or IM), helping us talk in present tense. We had our first cross country phone call and soon added another dimension to our ‘relationship’: Skype. Little did I know at the point that Skype was to single handedly change my life…

As me and her continuously moved countries, she went to Pakistan then to Saudi Arabia. I went from India back to the US, our communication only picked up in intensity and volume. Despite the vast time differences and cultural differences of the places we were in, on the web nothing mattered. Our facebook messages had reached monumental lengths and had become a treasure trove of memories in themselves, 6-8 hour skype sessions abound, emails, g-chat’s, you name it we did it.

Over the course of the next few years I was to meet Sana about 7-8 times and the rest of it was a virtual long distance relationship. People asked me many times how I did it and though I do agree that we both put a lot into the relationship, at the end of the day the ease of access to modern technology had a major role in aiding our long distance love.

During this phase, facebook and twitter became hugely popular and smartphones i.e. Iphones, blackberry’s, Android’s became common place. Phones came with App’s for mail, chat, skype and what not. Technology was being integrated like never before. You were getting email on your phone, on your tablet and if you hadn’t still been able to check it, it was there on your traditional laptop or computer. 2G came, 3G came and now we have 4G.

What I soon started to notice was that the traditional phone call had become rather rare. I had unlimited texting but the lowest amount of minutes on my phone plan myself. We were updating our statuses, tweeting before things happened, bbm’ing (Blackberry’s messenger service), texting, but we were hardly interacting with each other in the traditional manner. On any given birthday, you could find hundreds of generic “Happy Birthday” messages on someone’s facebook. Yet at the same person’s birthday party, with the same people attending, there were long moments of awkward silence and fidgeting with phones. Was the art of conversation dying? Had we gone so overboard that we didn’t know how to interact with one another without technology?

I downloaded an app on my iphone called ‘Words with friends’. It’s like scrabble and you can play with friends who have the app or through facebook. You make a move and then wait till the other player makes a move. This can happen over a few hours, days or even weeks. It’s quite nice actually. The app has an interesting little feature wherein you can chat with the person you are playing the game with. I found this interesting because even within a game there was a little chat feature and I actually found myself having some real conversations with my friends including someone who told me they were quitting their banking job in New York to move to New Delhi to pursue Indian classical dance.

My initial skepticism to this overload of technology dialed down a little when I discovered an app called ‘What’s App’! It’s a cross platform messenger service (Iphone, Android, blackberry etc.) that you can download on your phone and uses the internet to send messages. However it is linked to your phone number so wherever you might go, it still recognizes you as the user. I myself am perplexed about some of the nuances of this app. I started using the app because some of my friends are based outside the US and me being a lover of instant texts/messaging found this a great outlet to talk with these people. What I noticed very soon was that having something like ‘what’s app’ made me share many more things with these same people. With the time differences and the effort it takes to make a phone call, I found it easier to leave messages on ‘what’s app’ and engaged in deep, meaningful conversations across the globe that I was earlier saving till when I met them once or twice a year.
It was one particular incident that made me realize the power of these tools. In a period that spanned 12 or so hours starting with me attending a party, sleeping, waking up early to go to work, going and working on my project with my team, catching up with a friend, getting lunch and then ending up in my room, I found myself engaged in an altogether different conversation with a friend in India. At no point did this person know about what all I was doing but it made me realize that I was able to have a conversation without any distractions so as to speak. Wasn’t that the art of communication anyway; to give one your undivided attention and be an attentive listener? Had technology been an enabler in a weird way in this case?

As I moved from Atlanta to Beirut to New Delhi to Singapore, I was always connected. Sharing videos, pictures and messages of my experiences almost immediately with the people I cared about. I also started using Skype on my Iphone and noticed how that opened up a completely new realm of communication for me. What I was losing in terms of distance I realized could be made up for if technology were used to its true potential.

I caught up with a friend of mine in New Delhi and a conversation with him instilled my faith in what I feel is the way forward for relationships in this global world. This friend of mine hops between Mozambique, Houston and New Delhi on business through the year. He recently met a girl through a friend of his and like me started talking to her on ‘Words with Friends’. Once they realized they were exchanging paragraphs and paragraphs they moved their conversations to g-chat (Gmail’s chat service). Once that wasn’t enough, they started using what’s app (The girl was in Singapore all the while). Over the next 5 months, without ever meeting, they opened up to each other like they hadn’t to anyone else and chatted for hours on end while they went about their independent lives in very different lands, disconnected by distance but connected by technology. Over a breakfast meeting in Delhi when they finally met, it took all his courage to stammer his feelings to her. As of a few weeks ago, they started dating!

When I heard the story, it made me extremely happy. It felt great to hear another story like mine. To know that relationships could be fostered despite distances. Despite the advances in technology, relationships will still require the same things they did before. Time, effort and care are key ingredients to successful platonic and romantic relationship that have remained the same over decades. Only the means seem to be changing.

Today we live in a world where it is almost impossible to find oneself disconnected from the world. Technology is too seamless and well distributed for us to be able to make excuses of a lack of time and means. Now more so than ever, we can easily stay in touch with those we care for!

In the golden days of Indian film, they showed female protagonists waiting years for their lovers to return from war or far off work assignments. Their love was unadulterated, infinite and relentless but the ecstasy they received in reunion is something I feel envious about. It is hard to imagine not communicating with the beloved people in our lives for that long isn’t it? Relationships are not the same anymore, they never will be! However we all still pine for them and cannot make any excuses of distance or time for not pursuing healthy, meaningful and deep friendships!

My flight lands in an hour and I hope to text a friend when I land, share a photo with Sana in Saudi, what’s app my business partner in Delhi, leave a facebook message for my cousin sister returning to Sydney and email the friends I met in Singapore a few days ago! Multiple individual relationships spanning different places and people, this is the very essence of what I am talking about!

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.