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.

You don't like Turkish people?

My last business trip in 2014 is to Connecticut and New York offices. Holiday parties and other year-end stuff.

I wander into Macy's in Stamford one evening. Looking for a briefcase to replace my current one. I find a choice in the luggage section. Seriously? A lady's bag is not luggage and a man's is?

I am poking around in the collection and a salesman with a foreign accent asks if I need help. Yes, I can't find a price on these, I say. He shows me how and I continue my poking. I narrow my choice to two, and know which one of these I want - but I don't buy it straightaway because I need re-affirmation. So I ask Mr. Foreign Accent for permission, take pictures and email them to Smita. About an hour later she confirms my choice, and I go back to the shop.

A different salesman is there. In a Connecticut accent, he tells me he is the only one there and is overworked. He makes an effort to find a boxed copy of the briefcase and fails. I leave. But I am persistent and back the next evening.

Again, there is only one salesman present but its Mr. F. A. and he acknowledges me with eye contact while serving another customer. I wait patiently (living in Switzerland teaches you that). A lady comes with some shopping and flops on a display bed saying "I know I should not do this." FA does not care. I smile.

She wants a lot, but finally the customer in front of me is done.

"Did you decide?" he asks.

I decided yesterday already, but when I came back you were not there and your colleague was not very helpful.

"I could have helped you while I was there"

I know, but I needed my wife's advice.

"What does she know about briefcases?"

She knows about fashion.

At this stage, Ms. Lady-flopped-on-bed joins in and chirps "all my husband wants is a tie. He does not want to win, just a tie would make him happy". We all chuckle. FA brings a box to the cash register.

"You have a Macy's card?"

No.

"You want a Macy's card?"

No.

"You get 15% discount, and I will give you an extra 10%"

No. By the way, may I ask if you are originally from Turkey?

"Why, you don't like Turkish people?"

Smart guy.

I love Turkish people. I was in Istanbul two weeks ago. I have a lot of Turkish friends.

"What's the most famous monument to love in the world?"

Ahem, the Taj Mahal?

"Who was it built for?"

Mumtaz?

"Who built it?"

Shahjahan?

"Who was the architect?"

Err ..

"It was Mir something from Persia"

Ah, you are from Iran? You also have a famous bridge of love in Esfahan.

"You have been to Iran?"

Many times. Tehran, Qom, Esfahan, Bandar Imam, Assaluyeh.

"Ah, a world traveler!"

That's why I want a briefcase!

(P.S. I notice when I pay that I got the 15% Macy's discount anyway.

P.P.S. Wikipedia says that the architect was Ustad Ahmad Lahauri. He was a Persian (Tajik) from Badakhshan in modern-day Afghanistan)

Sichuan Hotpot!

A link to the Swindian post on my experience can be found here

Himalayas - Almost Tibet

A few days ago, I was at a conference in Chengdu, which is the fourth largest city in China and the largest in Sichuan Province. It has a population of 7m people in the city and 14m in the suburban area. At the end of the conference, I managed to squeeze out some time to take a short flight up to Song Pan county, Which houses the fabulous Huanglong and Juizhaoguo Parks.

We stayed at the Intercontinental Hotel in Juizhao which was quite a unique property. A large greenhouse type structure welcomed you as you walked in the main doors - this housed the restaurants and shops in the hotel - before you entered the main building with the lobby and rooms. Public areas were super cold!

Jiuzhao Huanglong

Day 1 - Huanglong (Yellow Dragon)

Landed after a 40 min flight. Temp change from 19C to -2C. As I walk up the airbridge, I feel the lack of oxygen at 3600 m. Lily and Hongtao are with me.

We drive about an hour and a half to Huanglong cable car station, picking up water bottles and oxygen canisters on the way. The station is at 3100 m and takes a quick 4 mins to drop us at 3500 m. Form here we have to walk (one way only) to where the colored mineral pools are first visible and then walk back to the base station.

Our guide tells us that he has a dodgy knee and will not walk with us. We set off on a very well designed wooden platform in the forest. One way only. No turning back. We are told that the distance is about 11 km and will take us 4+ hours. Right.

The first stage is just walking through the forest until we get to a clearing. We have two options: cut across a flat or walk up to the top - that's about 430 m long and a vertical height of about 150m. We are not pussies, but I do feel the lack of oxygen. We have not had time to acclimatize, having landed at 7.15 AM and taking the cable car at 09.15.

(An interesting story about the flights into this airport - legend has it that 9 of 10 flights here are delayed, and one is sent back. Bad weather. We were lucky - a clear day and on time arrival)

So this is a waterfall which has managed to form colorful, mirror like pools as it flows down the mountain. There is a series of these pools of different shapes and sizes as we walk down. No doubt the colors come from the minerals in the rocks.

There is no end to the number of photo opps. But the walk down is a long 3 hours or so. We have not had breakfast and I buy a Snickers bar for energy. In sequence my knees, thighs and then my feet hurt. Fortunately not all together.

By now the park is very crowded and we are dodging people for the photos as well as the walk itself. We are out at about 2 pm and the wait to get the cable car is now 2 hours. Good thing we got here early! Many people are walking up the path that we are walking down. I doubt they will walk all the way to the top.

As we come to the bottom, the sound of traffic has never been so welcome.

We stop at a dhaba for lunch and then the drive to the hotel is about three hours. I sleep, as do my companions.

I have a monster headache as I walk into my room. Must be altitude sickness. A bad dinner buffet is followed by a long foot massage. Time to go to bed.

You can find the Wikipedia link to the park here and one of my 150 photos below.

Day 2 - Juizhaoguo (Valley of nine villages)

Lily tells me this morning that her iPhone suggests we walked 17 km yesterday. I guess that's possible in 4.5 hours.

We have to leave at 9 am for Juizhaoguo but delay it to 9.40 due to heavy traffic.

This park is quite different. It's located between 2300 & 2600 m with abundant forests, lakes and waterfalls. The nine villages refer to the nine Tibetan villages contained in the park, all of which are now commercialized.

The park is huge enough that we have to take the park bus to travel between the scenic viewpoints but not big enough for China. I am told that there are 60,000 visitors at the park today since it's such a nice Saturday (we really got lucky yesterday and today - I was told multiple times that people come here again and again and don't get such nice weather!). I spot one western person the whole day.

The crowd behaviour manifests itself in fighting for photo opps and getting into the bus - the latter reminds me of Calcutta buses! 450 buses don't seem to be enough.

We are in the park for about six hours before heading home. I have seen plenty of lakes and waterfalls. Autumn colours blanket the hillsides and we even see snowy peaks as cotton candy clouds lazily drift past.

Lily tells me that we have walked 11 km. I am bone tired but it's been a terrific two days.

We round off with dinner comprising of Sichuan hotpot. An experience to remember. It's my second hotpot on this trip. Details of the first one are on the Swindian blog.

8 PM and I am back in my room. Some random work including writing this and I will soon be in bed. Long day ahead tomorrow - four flights to get home. Hopefully the first one is not delayed.

Once again, the Wikipedia link is here and one of the photos I took is added below. Neither this or the earlier photo was touched up. The colours are natural.

2 Days in London

Trringgg. The alarm goes off. It's 05.15 on Thursday, September 25th.

I crawl out of bed and start getting ready for my 08.45 flight from Zurich to London. It's a short, 2 day trip and for once, not business.

My first destination after arrival is the Village Underground at Shoreditch at 11.30 which I rush to after leaving my bags at the Hyatt at Portman Square. Slightly breathless, slightly late, the first talk at the Telefonica TedX event has already been underway for a few minutes.

But I am not here for the first talk, interesting as it was, or for any of the other talks that morning. What I am here for is to listen to our daughter Kiran, who is due in at 15.50 with a talk titled "Dancing with digital". I am one of the 3 honored guests together with Moulsari and Dasha.

Waiting for her to begin was not interminable. Other speakers (as is often the case with TED talks) were at times fun, at times fascinating and always interesting. The person who left the biggest impression was Nando Parrado, one of the survivors of the 1972 plane crash in the Andes (http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nando_Parrado) who left the stage to an emotional audience and a standing?
JS ovation.

Finally it was time for Kiran to come on. She was scheduled post the afternoon coffee break, the audience was fresh and she captivated them with her words, music and dance. She was funny, she was interactive (the audience got on their feet and danced with her) and she finished with her older sister Srishti's favorite song! It was wonderful to watch and listen to her - our baby has grown up so well!

Later that evening we met friends and went for dinner to Trishna, ostensibly a Michelin star restaurant near the hotel where the food was excellent but the service was lacking.

Friday morning. Dropped off Kiran's winter clothes at her flat. Went for a run in Hyde Park. Met Moulsari for a coffee and then Sunder (an old college friend) for lunch at the Mint Leaf. A simpler Indian restaurant at Bank, with good food and better service.

Then the highlight of the week was up - at least for Kiran, having put the TedX talk behind her. The iTunes festival. Camden Town. What a happening neighbourhood! We got there just after six and found our way to the front of the hall, right by the stage and waited for the pre-act to begin at eight. Oh, did I mention that the main act due at 9 PM (and the reason we were here) was Lenny Kravitz? To get in the mood, I had spent a few hours recently and today to listen to his songs. I knew the most famous ones now - American Woman and Fly Away.

To cut a long story short, it was a great act. Not just the singing, it was the band which was absolutely amazing. The guy with the saxophone and the gal at the drums were awesome. Legendary. The music blew our minds.

The crowning glory? Yes, right. It was when Lenny Kravitz slid off the stage and came right up to us singing - close enough for Kiran to hug him. If I had not seen it myself, I could not have imagined someone so absolutely delirious with joy! It was a wonderful moment.

Saturday morning - heading back home after possibly the best and most unique 2 days away. I am so glad that I made the trip. It was an honour to be at the TedX event and a joy the rest of the time.

And then there were none

As a teenager, I used to love reading Agatha Christie's mystery stories. The unraveling of each plot kept me enthralled and riveted all the way to the end.

But this is not a mystery story, and with Dame Agatha's permission for using one of her titles, let me get on with this little anecdote.

I love the occasional tipple, and enjoy my small collection of whiskey. Given my memory, I did not remember where I picked up a bottle of Glenmorangie's Cellar 13 single malt.

When I opened the box and saw the light golden coloured liquid, I was not terribly impressed. It has recently become trendy to enjoy the stronger tasting, dark coloured single malts, especially the ones from Islay. This single malt was almost transparent, it was so light in colour. But one sip and I was in heaven.



My taste buds are not developed enough to distinguish between the different elements of the whiskey, but the overall effect was so good that I hid the bottle from the prying eyes of guests and only ever partook of it when I was alone. This goes against my generous nature for sharing my cabinet, but I could not afford to finish the bottle before I found another. Notice that there is no age on the label, but a quick search told me that the whiskeys used in this single malt were between 10 & 12 years old. In scotch terms, this makes the whiskey 10 years old. As the name suggests, it comes from a single cellar.

So the hunt started. Over a period of the last 3-4 years, I looked for this whiskey in all the places in the world that I traveled to, but without luck. As I neared the half way mark in the bottle, I stopped drinking it. In my mind, it needed to be treasured.

About a year or so ago, I saw a Glenmorangie exhibit at Edinburgh airport and rushed over to ask the comely young lady about their Cellar 13. "The cellar is empty", she said, "we sold the last bottles two years ago". Disappointment spread through me, much like the warmth of that golden liquid. That half bottle hidden in my cabinet had just become even more precious. I hid it away even deeper.

A few months later, a close friend of ours, who is a great fan of malts, was moving back from Zurich to Texas, and we walked into Eddie's Whiskies in Horgen to buy him a bottle of single malt. This is an amazing store, by the way, and one that you should visit if you are in the area and a fan of single malts. Being web obsessed, we looked up the list of bottles in the shop before we drove up.

I guess the alert reader knows what's coming next. You are right, the catalogue listed Glenmorangie Cellar 13 amongst it's contents! This made me leave home immediately and drive faster.

"Yes, we still have that label", said Eddie, pointing to the shelf where there were three boxes stacked unobtrusively.

"I'll take them all. Do you have any more at the back?"

"Those are all that I have."

They are now in my cabinet, and the next guest we had at home was allowed to see the box and choose to have a wee dram if he so desired.

http://www.thewhiskyexchange.com/P-2453.aspx

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/And_Then_There_Were_None

http://www.eddies.ch

Kya kaha aapne?

I dislike early morning flights.

Those who know me are fully aware that I seem to spend half my time on the move, but they also know that I do not like the redeyes. Sure, there was a time when I always took those 7 AM flights, just like there was also a time when I worked on planes.

I guess I am old enough to make my rules. At least some of the time.

What I could not get away from was the early morning flight via Frankfurt to Houston. There was just no other option. This trip involved waking up at 04.30 AM and getting a taxi at 05.30 AM. Why do I need an hour to get ready? It's because I still feel that I have forgotten to take something and so I scurry around my bag worrying about what I have forgotten. I also tend to sleep badly if I know that I have to be up early to catch a plane.

I suppose there are some things that I am just not gonna get used to.

So here I am at Zurich airport at 06.10 and there is just one checkin counter open, even though three of them have warm bodies behind them. I wait patiently. Suddenly I am beckoned to a counter which still has the sign "closed" above it.

I know the drill, as one of my previous blog posts suggested ... but I am in for a surprise.

"Namaste", says Marcelo Alejandro. I come out of my sleepwalk and return the greeting. No big deal, plenty of people know this common Indian greeting.

"Kahan ja rahen hain aap?"

Now I am wide awake. "Houston via Frankfurt", I say, and add "You have been living in Delhi?"

"I have never been to India." I am dumbstruck. "I am part of a cross-culture club and we learn about all different cultures". I am impressed. Not only can he string together a few sentences, he actually understands what I am saying and responds correctly.

"That's a Milgauss", he suddenly says, and I nod affirmatively. This guy knows his stuff. He is also a member of a Rolex club.

"Does it sing to you?"; and then noticing my raised eyebrows goes on to add "Unless a watch sings to you, it's not the right one for you. When you put it on your wrist it should start to communicate with you."

I get it. "Yes, of all the watches I own, this one probably sings to me."

Switching subjects, I have an issue of wanting an aisle seat in the middle section of my long distance flight, whereas the pre-assigned seat is a window seat. "Khidki nahi chahiye?", he asks and I explain that I don't want to climb over anybody and nor do I want to climb over anyone else. He'll fix me up, but only when I get to the gate.

There is a strike in Frankfurt airport and some flights have been cancelled, so he is a bit rushed. "But I will be at the gate, so I will get you the seat you want". True to his word, he is at the gate and gets me my seat.

I am truly impressed. Marcelo has turned a dreary and routine checkin for a sleep walking passenger into a very pleasant experience. He has also shown how a routine job can be made interesting.

I walk to the gate and into the plane with a smile on my face.