Life - Here and There - And nothing in between

Well I haven't been serious enough, in my blog, in my life and probably all the probabilities occurring in my life are the probabilistic results of highly improbable events leading to the remote probability of my life being wrecked, probably beyond repair. Not again. Every time I sit down to blog, I try not to sound funny or act sarcastic (ample proof of which is present in the opening paragraph of most of my earlier blogs) but somehow midway I get back to my old sarcastic self. Nevertheless, I keep trying and trying .....and trying.

So, seriously and I mean seriously lets talk about Potato Chips. Why?? Because that's the only serious subject I could find in front of me. A pack of potato chips essentially contains potato chips which essentially are slices of potato that are 'supposed' to be freshest with no preservatives with a terrific taste that will tantalize my taste buds (those surviving after the assault of Subway veggies). Philosophers contend that the potato chips is a perfect metaphor to the problems in life that look humongous when in a pack but dissolve into thin air when chewed on. But seriously speaking again what they fail to notice is the 11g of fat (2g of saturated fat) that is transferred along with the crispy wafers which is akin to the .... the... penalty the system has to pay for chewing on the problem. Crap! What am I talking. Whoever said potato chips were metaphorical of problems. All crap. I cant do this anymore.

In that case, I guess I'll go back to my latest muse of comparing things here and back in India -things I miss a lot. And I guess I'd do it with a lot of favoritism towards India than those NRIs (the non returning types). I miss having my morning cuppa over the old faithful friend Deccan Herald. Waiting for the newspaper boy whose arrival times cannot fit into any known probability distribution was sweeter in direct proportion to the magnitude of the news expected. Literally fighting with the family to be able to grab the paper first is an experience best experienced first hand. Although newspapers in America are supposed to be good, the free ones contain absolute rubbish like 'taxi driver rips off passenger's coat for refusal to pay tips' or 'prankster arrested for making 911 calls repeatedly' which are of no use to mankind. In contrast, looking out for the scheduled power cut and hunting down for our locality in the midst of hundred other localities is more cherishing. The joy of finally finding our locality and then the realization of absolutely no TV or computer for the next 7 hours was simply great (either in the positive or negative sense).

I miss those delicious dosas I had 5 times a week and literally fought with my mom for it, so much so that she dreaded hearing the very word 'dosa'. Settling on the couch with those and dutifully reading the middle and the LTTE (Letters to the editor) was as much a routine as brushing my teeth. Agreed, I can always read DH online here too. But anyone who has read a newspaper with the least bit of enjoyment would agree that the epaper is in no way a substitute to the 'real thing'. I yearn for the Bangalore traffic with their great lane nonsense ( I believe the antonym for lane sense), the unpredictable auto drivers (I've heard that the late Dr. HN wrote a humorous piece on them titled 'Auto Bhayagraphy' - please forward it to me if anyone finds it), the chaos with the seasonal rains, the splendid taste of Bhel puri when one's pants are half drenched, the confrontations with the street dogs with 'attitude', the BMTC buses that could compete for the densest population per square meter, the joy when petrol prices decrease, the despair when they increase, the luxury of having incoming calls free and of course the exemplary art of 'giving' missed calls are just a few of the simple joys in life one misses when away home.

But on the brighter side, you have to miss them for a few years to realize what you really enjoy and that makes one appreciate their value a lot more. In conclusion, at the risk of sounding nostalgic, I guess I have written a fairly 'serious' blog on a fairly serious subject for a fairly serious audience. If a more serious approach is warranted, I shall be obliged to do so in the near future.

Yours Seriously,

Varthik K

Amreeka! Amreeka!

Q: So how was the journey??

A: The journey was a perfect embodiment of what is generally called a long journey except that the particular word in the Queen's language 'long' apparently defied all bounds and decency to transmogrify into 'loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong'.

So in a days time of 23 hours of trying to figure out why exactly British Airways mandates its male cabin crew to have clean shaven heads, ponder at the retirement age for the female crew, turn around every single piece of food packet served to determine its allegiance to the Vegetarian or the Non Vegetarian lobby ( I never spared "Still" Mineral water too), gulping down horrible replacements to what you (that was just a little joke) Indians call food and catching say 15.65 winks for the day, I had almost reached a good twenty thousand miles away from home.

For the run of the mill IT company kind of guys that's it. Go back to sleep. your cab has already started from it starting point and would be on its way to pick you up in sharp 6 hrs 41 mins. For the others, a more detailed and sometimes boring explanation is warranted. Well lets see....

The Bengaluru International Airport with all the hype around it still requires 1 Re to make a call. Oh God! Gone are the days when flashy places like the airports actually charged you a minimum of double digit currency to talk to your girlfriend. So I guess its perfectly normal to find kids and the not so kids in designer suits and Gucci shoes begging around - "1 Re Pleeease". And I guess it needn't be further stated as to who had a first hand experience in the art of begging.

An unceremonious 'random' bag checking and a few plastic smiles later, and of course a couple of high altitude meals thrown in, London was refreshingly hmm..aah...well.... western enough. After being forced to watch the plane trajectory from Heathrow to Denver and a particularly irritating review of all the movies onboard by a certain Michael Something with a irritating sense of humor, the Spanish movie 'The Orphanage' was quite good and intense and I would recommend it any day for anyone wishing some horror.

Some like the chocolates here, some the cleanliness, some the cute ones, but the first thing I loved about this place is ........ ah well...I dont seem to know the name of that but for all I know its those synthetic tapes used as railings in almost every public place. Can be easily dismantled and reconfigured for new ways. For those of you still wondering what Im talking about, I'll post a picture someday.

The best thing about Boulder apart from the northward racing shorts (obviously those preferred by the female species) is the transport service. I love this ( I meant the bus, not the former) so much that there hasn't been a journey since I landed here without me dozing off. Well for starters, some of the queerness noticeable here apart from those mentioned above are

• The eternal penchant for maps and their usage. Every corner has a free map to be 'used'. Getting lost here isnt all that easy, even if you wanted to, for eventually you'll bump into this sweet girl who'll get you on the right track (quite literally) with the help of her sleek iPhone.
• Motorists giving way to pedestrians. Its a state law here of course. Yet, it is embarrassing that you accidentally keep a foot on road and all traffic comes to a standstill and you are forced to cross the road even if you didnt want to in the first place. Dont try them on national highways though.
• And boy, greet, greet and greet. Every moment, every time you see someone, greet. Phew! although amusing sometimes, can be quite irritating when experienced in large doses with no apparent motivation to do it :P

America is said to be a land of opportunities ( someone missed out 'extremes') From my close shave with a hit to the mighty jalapenos (pronounced 'halapenos') and their funny taste, the vending machines that hate humans and dish out dimes and nickels, the really fast internet (vrooooooom!) there's plenty to discuss, but all that if I can motivate myself to blog again. (Heck! I took a whole week to complete this!)