Ashok Unplugged

Saturday 09.30 AM

Boarding call. Swipe to set the phone on airplane mode. Have already called home to say that my phone would be switched off and that I would find my way home - no need for a ride or anything - and had given an ETA estimate.

Touchdown. Zurich airport. Reached for the phone. Swiped upwards from the bottom of the screen to turn off airplane mode.

Stopped. Rolling to the airport building. Get off. Need to check when the next train home is and buy a ticket. Go to the SBB app.

Oops. It doesn't work on airplane mode! Search for the blue signboard with train timings. Ah. Have enough time. Queue up (impatiently - typisch schwyzer) behind tourists at a ticket machine and buy a paper ticket using real plastic.

All set and on the train. Grab my iPad to continue reading Krishna Key. Yes, dear reader, it's on airplane mode as well. Nice mild day so the walk home from the train station was no hardship.

You know, this was surprisingly easier than I had imagined.

Perhaps because it was Saturday. The Swiss tend not to make spontaneous calls.

Perhaps because I had dealt with the work email before I left the hotel in the morning. No nagging thoughts of missing something.

Perhaps because I just lazed around home for the day watching TV and reading. Alright, there were a couple of occasions when I reached for the phone wanting to look up a character on screen. Settled back when I did not find the phone next to me.

Oh, the phantom vibration - like a missing limb feeling itchy. It happened. Left back jeans pocket.

Remembered at one stage that I hadn't checked in for my Sunday flight. Ignored the temptation.

Moulu had said she would call, and I had said : try home phone. It didn't ring.

No phone on my bedside table to check the time at night. Replaced by the Omega.

Sunday morning. Wake up. Get outa bed. Drag a comb across my head - not :)

Set aside clothes for next trip. Breakfast. Call mother using landline. Gym.

10 AM. Turned off airplane mode. All is well.

Confessions:

1. Had the iMac turned on since we need it to watch Apple TV.
2. This blog written on the iPhone but while in airplane mode.

Wer hat Wasser?

Who ordered the water?

As the keen Swiss-o-phile knows, this country is well renowned for its tourism, hotels and hospitality. Young men and women come from all over the world and join their Swiss compatriots in learning about the hospitality trade in schools in Chur, Luzern, Lausanne and possibly other places.

What may be less known is that Swiss dining is equally high quality and it's pretty hard to find bad food in this country. Whether it's a Döner from a shop or a sit down meal, food is always wholesome and tasty.

Service on the other hand - ah well, let's just say that it depends. It varies. It can be unpredictable. Like most of Europe, service charges or tips are included in the price, and arguably this gives little incentive to the service staff to go above and beyond a minimum standard to please the customer. There is the practice of "trinkgeld" where the customer leaves some coins on the table but I think this is mostly a reflex rather then a decision based on the service received.

Honestly, I have nothing against this custom. What upsets me is the way the whole drama unfolds in most restaurant (top end fine dining excepted) when you place your order. I have become accustomed to it, even though it annoys me. But this past week I was upset enough to take fingers to keyboard.

This is how it usually goes, translating from Schwiizer Tüütsch. It's a true lunchtime incident in a reasonably high end Chinese restaurant in downtown Zurich, but is representative. We are a party of 8. Business lunch.

"Greetings, all together!" (goes the waiter/waitress)
"Greetings!"
Menus are handed over.
"What can I get you to drink?"
"Give us a minute please"
Exit waitress, and back in a few (or many) minutes.
"So, what would you like to drink?"
"We are ready to order our food"
"Ja, but what would you like to drink first?"

So we order drinks. Then we start to order the food only to find that the waitress has disappeared.
She re-emerges 10 minutes later with the drinks.
"Who ordered the ice tea?"
Three of us raise hands.
"Who ordered the water with carbon dioxide?"
Three more.
The last two get the "water without"
"So what would you like to eat?"
We order our meals. There is a mix of Menu 1, Menu 2, Menu 3 and some a la carte dishes. She goes around the table one by one and writes down the orders.

15 or so minutes later, she and a waiter are back with the food.
"Who has Menu 1?"
One hand raised.
"Who has dimsums?"

Do I need to go on?

She did write the orders for our large group in a logical way - going clockwise around the table. Why then could she not follow the same simple logic in delivering the orders? Some of us were chatting and did not see the order come in or hear her - these people had to be poked in the ribs or otherwise disturbed to concentrate on the task at hand. Which was? Raising your hand like a student in a classroom to repeat what it was that you ordered. We all have to hear one more time - loudly - what the others have ordered.

This is nuts, and not unique to a large group. The same thing would happen if there were just two of us. I have not tested it when dining alone, simply because I never dine alone in a restaurant.

This is the way they must be trained at these elite institutes in Switzerland. It's the same in all restaurants. Why oh why can they not lose this annoying custom? I suppose that, in following Swiss custom, change is not welcome.

P.S. : By now, the keen reader must also have discerned that water is not automatic at a Swiss restaurant

The Siege

Tears threatened to fill my eyes. My throat constricted. More than once.

I had just finished reading the book "The Siege", a link to it's Wikipedia page is here.

Shangrila hotel in Pudong, China is where I had switched on the TV on the evening of November 26, 2008 and watched the attack on the Taj in horror. All other thoughts were replaced by sheer incredulity - how could this happen? Crime is not unknown in Mumbai and neither are bombings, but a group of men walking around with guns just shooting down people? In South Bombay? Never.

I had spent the first three years of my life living in that area (not that I remember much!) and visited frequently before returning to work in the city in 1982. The memories of living in Badhwar Park for four years are indelible as was my life in and around South Bombay.

So many memories. Movies at Regal. Shopping on Colaba Causeway. Beer at Gokul, even on dry days when it was served in steel tumblers. Singdana and masala papad. Bade Miyan's kababs. Chicken Malai Tikka at Santoor. I could go on endlessly.

As a young couple, we often visited the Taj Coffee Shop (Shamiana) and strolled around the Gateway of India. Visiting the Sea Lounge was a special treat, as was dining at Golden Dragon. The Oberoi coffee shop was where we discussed Charu's wedding and were surprised to see our photo in the Times of India the next morning!

Having moved away from India for close on 30 years now and not visiting South Bombay often enough had dulled some of my memories, but everything came back as I raced through this book. I could visualize the places described in the book with vivid emotion. The book's focus is on the events that occured at the Taj while touching on (but not detailing) the attacks on Leopold Cafe, Bombay VT, The Oberoi and Chabad House. Thank God they were stopped before they got to Malabar Hill.

To be brief, Levy and Scott-Clerk have written a masterpiece. This is a racy action thriller which is non-fiction. It feels for the people who were involved in this tragedy and made me a part of their stories. It is based on deep research and conversations with many of the people who were affected. It is a story of heroism, tragedy, bravery, tears and stupidity. It also exposes the incompetence of the authorities in dealing with the situation.

I am glad I read this book.