Day III in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2022

 When I took a shower this afternoon I found the water soothingly lukewarm, heated by solar energy. We don't have any solar panels or anything fancy like that. The overhead tank water was warmed by pure and natural sunlight. Felt so cool to take bath in this environmentaly friendly environment. No electricity or natural gas was needed to bring water to a lukewarm temperature. No boiler or geyser was operated, water only warmed by pure, unadulterated sunlight. But mention of this earth friendly incident only elicited lukewarm response from most.

Early around 4 O'Clock in the morning I heard thunder which sounded like music to my ears. I went over to our balcony facing the street. The silver streaks of lightning and booms of thunder from North Eastern sky was followed by a short downpour. The enchanting, earthy smell of fresh rains over the parched earth came wafting it, the smell of which can beat the best of French perfumes. Due to jet lag I have become a night owl soon to find my company. Under bright street I watched a night Owl flew by and then perched on our main gate. It settled down flapping its wings and gaped at me wide eyed like a Ullu.

The rain grounded the dust in the air, swiping off dust from the foliage like wiper blades of a car. In the morning the buildings in the neighborhood started looking brighter. Didn't rain a whole lot but was enough to leave poodles of water on the ground and bring down the temperature to a manageable level. 

Today is SABITRI, a festival exclusive to the state of Odisha which is widely celebrated on the first New Moon Day of the Lunar month of JYESHTA, which per Gregorian calendar comes anywhere between mid May to mid June every year. On this day the married women pray for the long life and well being of their husbands. Coincidentally this is my wife's first SABITRI BRATA in India.

In our PURANAs (ancient religious texts), it is mentioned that a young man named  SATYABAN died a sudden, unnatural death. His wife SABITRI who was a SATI (the pious and chaste one), ardently  prayed Lord YAMA (God of death) to restore her husband's life. Gratified by her devotion and penance, Lord YAMA duly obliged. Her husband woke up to life as if he just woke up from sleep.

Following this mythology our ladies do UPABAASA (fasting) on this auspicious day eating frugally; surviving mostly on fruits and yogurt. Parents send SABITRI BHARA (the gift bucket for Sabitri) to their married daughters, which apart from SINDOOR (vermillion) and Bangles symbolizing long marital life also contains a wide array of fruits, including but not limited to locally grown tropical fruits like Mango, Banana, Jackfruit, Lichi, Guava, Date, Palm and Pinapple.
Mango being the King of Fruits is most in demand. It is in season and plentiful. Nothing beats the taste of myriads variety of Mangoes available in India. They are juicy, sweet and succulent with its unique flavor - beating the Mexican and Brazilian varieties we get in USA by miles. Now a days non native fruits, a la Apples, Oranges and Grapes have added taste and veriety to the traditional ones.

The presence of a SABITRI BHARA inside house can be identified by the  conspicuously strong scent of ripened Jackfruits, which are in season at this time of the year and can be smelt miles away. The jungles of Odisha are filled with Jackfruit trees and it is not unusual for this large size fruits cluster around the bottom of the tree, protruding from tree trunh like the sagging fat of a Sumo wrestler. Bears and Jackles who get attracted by their smell love to feast on them.

The downside of this festival is the prices of fruits and SAREEs (traditional attire of Indian women) which skyrocket days before the festival, both due to their demand and hoarding by nefarious  merchants. This year the celebration is at low key due the lockdown imposed statewide as a preventive measure against the undoing pandemic. Happy "Sabitri Brata" to all ladies. More later...

Day II in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2022

 Over my morning Cuppa tea I browsed through the local vernacular Odia newspaper "SAMBADA, scanning for anything newsworthy, something spicy or titillating. The newspaper was full of crap and commercials. Always a sucker to all kinds of sensational stuff, I eyed upon a piece of eye catching news on the front page - "MAHILA BANK KARMACHARI KA GHARE PASI ULAGNA JUBAKA KA UNMUKTA KANDA" (A man went wild after entering naked inside the home of a female Bank Employee). It took me barely 5 minutes to go through the entire newspaper skipping through all those junks.

After a day of resting at home I became restless to venture outside. Jump started a Scooty which stuttered and shuddered on the dusty, bumpy road. Not yet used to it, I accelerated a bit too fast as it zoomed past, fast enough to disturb couple of pariah dogs resting peacefully under the shed of a nearby wall. My driving shrugged off their jaded nerves. One of them jumped away a few feet to his safety giving me a shock and awe look. The other one made a yogic BHUJANGASAN (Snake pose) extending its feets and let its disapproval known by yodeling "Wooo..Woof Woof".

I sped away piercing through the dust, intermittently applying the break and adjusting and getting used to the vehicle. After couple of hundred feet I was able to get a handle of the Scooty. In a drive of barely a mile I saw a good number of stray dogs, cows, bitches and bulls on the roads of our Old Town neighborhood. On every trip I find these animals increasingly getting numerous. 

On the road encountered a guy who driving on wrong side of the road suddenly approached me, forcing me to lean towards further left most corner of the road to avoid hitting his bike. "KANA MARIBAKU ICHHA (You got a death wish ?) - spontaneous was my outburst. He reciprocated by smiling back exposing all his 32 phalanx of dark, betel stained teeth and fled away.

Another hot and muggy day here in Bhubaneswar. ASAHYA GULUGULI (unbearable humidity) is the talk of the town. And it's not far from the truth. Prior to the arrival of monsoon in Odisha it is not unusual this time of the year to be accompanied by stifling heat and humidity. Hence this phase is locally called as ANASARA GULUGULI (muggy) days, close to the famous RATH YATRA (Chariot Festival) of Lord Jagannath.

The almost static air, pregnant with water vapor and barely moving a leaf on the trees becomes unbearable with hardly any relief on sight. The local populace takes solace from a free, healthy, natural Sauna bath for a few days cleansing the pores in their body, praying for the early advance of monsoon. More later...

Day I in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2022

 On reaching home after a long journey of 30 hours spanning over 3 continents and 10 time zones, I badly needed a shit, shave, shower and sleep in the comfort zone of home. The stifling heat and humidity was already taking its toll, my first pee at home resembled mustard oil. Inside the bathroom I turned the faucet on to brush my teeth. Prrrt... Prrrt.. it farted twice before emitting a thin stream of water which slowly got thicker. Through bathroom skylight I could hear the tweeting spree by a sparrow sitting on a nearby Mango tree "Tweetwoo... tweetwoo...tweetwoo..", with no restrictions unlike the character limit put by its social media counterpart.

No sooner I finished eating a simple lunch finished off with succulent mangoes than I lied down on bed tired after a long journey and jet lag, starting to doze off to the sound of the continuous whirring of the wall mounted AC. On the branch of the nearby mango tree I could hear the coarse cawing of a crow interrupting sweet flute tone of the Cuckoo. It was interspersed with occasional spurts of passing by bikes honking -"keee..kicky.....kicky...keee.." and wafting of street vendors - E JHADU NABA JHADU (Want to buy Broom), AMBAAAACHAARA LEMBAAACHAARA (Mango pickle, Lemon pickle).

I could feel my eyelids refusing to stay open. Didn't realize when sleep overcame me when at twilight my mother woke me up - "Get up. Don't sleep further. Save some sleep for tonight". I was overcome by a sudden urge to rush to the bathroom, a reminder that it's now morning time in America. I am now in India but left my biological clock in USA. 

First night can be painful - the night after arrival with a jet lag. A stubborn Jet lag can be a real pain in you know what. My body clock simply refuses to relinquish the US Time Zone as I woke up at 2 O'clock this morning. Jet lag for me now seems to get too stubborn to relent as I age. It feels miserable to get up so early in morning, without being able to sleep any further. Kishore Kumar's song from Rajesh Khanna's movie AAP KI KASAM - KARWATE BADALTE RAHE SAARI RAAT HUM (turning sides on bed for whole night) never sounded more prophetic. 

Thanks to the internet and Facebook I could keep myself preoccupied for a while until the tom-tomimg of GHANTA (brass plate) from a nearby MATH (monastery) sounded like music to me, much more musical than the sporadic KAWALIs (group music) from stray dogs. No sooner the gang of musical mongrels on the Eastern end of the street finished with a seqience of wooo.. wooo..woof.. than their western side competitive cousins responded with their musical version of wooo.. wooo...woof. The Kawali sessions continued for the better part of the night with intermittent 10 - 15 minutes of break.

The long arduous wait in darkness paved way to dawn. The eastern sky grew brighter, turning crimson red as the light slowly drove away the darkness. By now the early rays of morning sun sprinkled the trees with a golden hue, giving their dust covered leaves a shining copper coating. The chirping of birds turned louder, so also the sound of GHANTA from the nearby Monastery - sounding the end of the morning session of prayer.

I went over to the balcony to take a peek at the outside world. You must have heard about Sand mafia, Land mafia etc. Have you heard of Flower mafia ? They come at wee hours of the morning, steal flowers from the frontyard gardens and sell them off to the larger market segment. My senior citizen parents can hardly do anything to stop them.

A man leaned over our fence and pulled down a flower tree to surreptitiously steal low hanging flowers. When he saw me noticing, he pulled away and moved on to the next house. But not every one notices my Peeping Tom role. In one of my prior trips I saw someone stealing flowers looked left and right to make sure no one was noticing before letting out a bombadistic fart. Glad he didn't look up to make me miss something to write about.

A Bull was placidly chewing cud under a big mound of sand in front of house where Sewage laying work has been going on for time immemorial. Couple of mongrels sleeping nearby noticed the tectonic shift in their surrounding as the giant Bovine suddenly stood up, shrugging off sand from his body. The doggies shifted further off to a nearby semi-broken concrete culvert perceived by them as a more secured, safer location from the big bully Bull.

Two pariah dogs were indulged in a face off, their protruding mouths barely a feet from each other. The bigger, aggressive one about to prounce on the other like a dragon in fury. The smaller doggie in a defensive, crouching pose was snarling at its bigger opponent with its tails well tucked within the hind legs. The barking and snarling continued for a few minutes until they made a truce and went their separate way.

From a distance approached our local Newspaper walla (guy). He swung and threw the paper past our main gate with immaculate accuracy and moved on to the next house. One of the dogs tried to sniff his way near to a man walking holding milk packs only to be rudely shooed away - HEY HEY JA JA (Hey, hey, go away). The doggie nonchalantly walked away. 

A jet lag can be an irritant, a nuisance especially for those plying between India and United States. The long journey can put one's body clock out of whack, which varies from individuals who experience little or no jet lag, to those who have to make a trip to the Doctor's office for medication when their jet lag stubbornly refuses to relent. Eventually most get over it. For me it lasts for a good 5 to 7 days, now more on the later side. 

Here are a few tips on how to minimize the jet lag. I am no expert on this subject, but this is rather based purely on my personal experience based on long distance travel for quarter of a century. Try not to sleep during the day. Keep yourself busy, sip some caffeine, especially late in the afternoon when your eyelids refuse to stay open. The more you sleep during the day, the longer it takes your body to adapt to the new clock. Also don't forget to drink plenty of water and go easy on food. Don't splurge on fried foods and alcohol when you still have a jet lag, it can cause havoc to your system. 

Last but the least, time is the best healer. Let your body clock take its own sweet time to adjust. If it's already a week since you have landed and the jet lag refuses to go, better see a doctor. More later...

Arrival at Bhubaneswar - India trip 2022

 After travelling international for 20 hours, collecting heavy baggages, clearing customs, walking all the way to recheck multiple baggages we all were dog tired. Unfortunately for us the Vistara flight to Bhubaneswar was boarding at gate no 55 which is located at a good walking distance at the fag end of the Domestic terminal 3. It was a long walk after our security check. Fortunately we encountered an Electric cart driver who drove us for at least a distance of 1km (more than half a mile) till the gate. While chatting next to him I found him to be a decent and polite person. 

The 7 O'Clock morning Vistara flight to Bhubaneswar was jam packed to the brink. There seems to a great connection between two Capital cities, both city of Dalaals (broker). I booked in Premium economy class as it didn't cost me a whole lot of extra money for allowing some extra leg space and extra luggage. In spite of the Air hostesses reminding the passengers inside the airplane multiple times to wear masks properly, dilettantes galored who took pleasure in disobeying the instructions.

Years ago while I was flying alone to Bhubaneswar on a similar flight, a guy next to me was conspicuously reading The Economics Times. I asked him why he is travelling to Bhubaneswar. He said he is on a short trip to Odisha where he envisions future lies in Organic farming as a potential money spinner.

During the course of our conversation the amateur farmer in me asked him certain aspects of farming, which I expected this gentleman with an interest in agriculture to be aware of, if not familiar. Apparently he turned out to be a novice, sounding more of an investor on a hunt for big bucks and ready for the kill, not to nurture the nature - sounded more like a soldier who had never set foot on the battle field, a city boy who had never grown a plant by himself. Our conversation turned out to big a damp squib.

Another time in the flight a man sitting next to me was a garrulous guy full of hot air. He boasted how he carries all his company's responsibility on his shoulders, how indispensable he was and visited all the 75 states of India on various company trips (never knew there were 75 states in India, even if you include all Union territories).

While munching food from the tray, I looked outside the window. The roaring big bird was flying bit low compared to the long distance international flights. It whizzed past low lying clouds, enabling me to take a peek outside to get a Bird's eye view. The plane was flying high over snow white fleece of cloud looking like a vast cotton plantation or a large flock of sheeps. Huge mushroom clouds looked like the snow capped castles of some distant planet in the Guardian of the Galaxy.

As the plane lowered itself preparing to land, the rivulets meandering through the gray undulating land down below formed a spectacular sight basking in the golden rays under a bright morning sun. The green, undulating waves of Eastern Ghat mountains was taking shower of the morning sunlight. River Mahanadi looked like a huge Anaconda taking a sunbath on golden sand. Closer to Bhubaneswar Airport the river Daya appeared like a gargantuan brown horseshoe covered in muddy water.

Every other year I fly over Bhubaneswar, sadly I see more concrete and asphalt, less green foliage as an once asthetic city known for its salubrious weather slowly turns into an urban jungle. Peeked below to take a view of the city I grew up with has outgrown itself. I left Bhubaneswar for good for quarter of a century ago, but the city has never left me. Way too many skyrisers seen from the top have gone over the top. They are becoming a growing environmental concern - going to bite this city big time sooner or later. Just before landing I could see a big orchard of dwarf coconut trees as the airplane zoomed past barely couple of hundred feet above it. Not sure who owns them.

How contrasting is the worm's eye view of the sky from the ground to the bird's eye view from the top. It made me understand the meaning of the phrase "Down To Earth". When it seems you are on top of the world, in minutes you are back on the ground. So are the vagaries of life. How much and how high you fly you have to come down - in no time you must descent from 41,000 feet to ground zero. Airplane teaches us a lesson on the actuality of life.

I was reminded of this incident when the flight landed at Bhubaneswar close to lunch time, I heard a guy from the front row shouting to his wife to keep the mutton (goat meat) curry ready for his lunch. I quizzed him "Sir, you must be hungry". (Addressing an unknown as Sir or Madam in India on first meeting usually impresses, even flatters the person). He responded "Yes, I am. I had been with Gujjus (Gujuratis) in Bombay on a business trip till Sunday. So no luck with meat in my meal. Followed Monday and Tuesday vegetarian day for many Oriyas. Today I desperately want to break free with a typical Odia home cooked mutton curry". The hungry me rolled tongue over my lips as I swallowed a few sips of saliva while he finished talking.

I was welcomed by a hot and muggy Bhubaneswar weather me as I stepped out of the Airport. Suddenly I felt like taking a sauna. It was a cool 87 degrees (30°C) with 90% humidity, with heat index close to 100. The heat is okay, but the high humidity was energy sapping. On my way home I savored the sights of the millieu where vehicles yonked their way through in a zigzag maze. After arriving in front of our house as I stepped out of my vehicle I could feel beads of sweat swelling on my chin and forehead. A sudden burst of breeze felt rejuvenating, vindicating the age old law of Physics "Evaporation causes cooling". 

As I stepped out of the vehicle in from of our house, a burst of breeze from South-West made the strangs of hanging green mangoes swung like pendulum. A Koel sitting on the mango tree was cooing, echoing the sweetest sound of the nature from the shadows of the summer heat. A little birdie, smaller in size than Koel on the branch was on a Twitting spree which would have given Donald Trump run for money - "Tweetwoo... tweetwoo...tweetwoo..", without bothering about the 40 character limit. Couple of mongrels seeing new kids in the block gaped at us for a while before melting away chasing each other's tail. It is always a pleasure homecoming to home back home. More later...

Arrival in Delhi - India trip 2022

 At Paris Airport I interacted with few passengers who were returning to India after spending evenings in Paris. Not a bad time to savor the salubrious climes of Europe as a getaway from the stifling heat and humidity of the Indian Summer. I was doing exactly the opposite, travelling on a vacation straight into the Indian summer and excited to core. 

At the Paris Duty Free Shop, I asked a Sales girl the price of a perfume I was buying for my wife. She responded to me in French where except the word "Monsieur" the rest sounded Greek and Latin to me. I replied back - "English please". She replied in feeble English. Same thing I encountered at the security gate where an official was explaining something in French where people from all over the world connecting to their destinations across the world assembled. 

My son who learnt French in School could understand French and told me that the security officer was explaining the standard procedures. He also overheard another guy whispering in French - "Americans are no good". He perhaps hasn't read any history and should be told that if Americans didn't liberate the French from their Nazi occupiers during the World War II the French would be speaking German today. However full credit goes to French for taking pride in their language. We Odias perhaps is the only one race on earth who do not take pride in its mother tongue should learn a thing or two from the French.

I am now reminded of an interesting episode during one of my layovers in Europe. A Virgin Airline flight was about to take off and names of passengers not boarded yet were called. An Air hostess swung by, shouting on top of her voice - "ANY VIRGIN HERE", obviously looking for some missing Virgin Airline passengers. Couple of girls raised their hands. Everyone close by started looking at them, some with chuckles and half baked smiles. The shy girls retreated to their privacy by dropping their heads over their smartphones to hide their embarrassment, still peeping through their corner of their eyes. Non of them got up to board the flight. We humans are slaves of inadvertent reflex actions.

After an eight hour flight when the aircraft started to descend over New Delhi pilot announced "Welcome to Delhi's IGI Airport. It's 1 AM in morning. Hazy, 27 degree Centigrade (80 Fahrenheit) outside." 80 degree at one O'Clock in the morning, imagine about the day time. During one of previous trips, just before landing in Delhi came abruptly the voice of an exalted teen sitting close to me exclaiming to his buddy, "OI UTTH, BAIN**OD DILLI A GAYEE" (Get up, so and so, sister slammer Delhi has arrived). More than the pilot, I found the teen's welcome far enthusiast and more apt way of welcoming to Delhi. As Jai Maharastra goes with Mumbai, O' Calcutta to Kolkata, Jay Jagannath to Odisha, Behn**od fits well to Dilli.

It was a grand Welcome to Delhi, Punjabi style, where a sentence can start with Bain**od (occasionally sound as Pain**od, interspersed with a few liberal dosages of Bai**od and ends with Bai**od. It's how the Dillwalle (Heartful) Dilliwalle (Delhites) often greet each other. Same in the Punjab province of Pakistan. When Sunil Gavaskar was in Lahore in 1978 he was puzzled by some Pakistani players frequently uttering "Pain**od" thinking it meant "Pant-Shirt" until his skipper Bishen Singh Bedi confirmed what it means.

Bai**od" is not such a bad word in Delhi and Punjab. Apart from usual meaning, it can stands for multiple euphemism, to describe a scene or situation. Bai**od KYA THAND HAI YAAR (My friend, it's so cold), Bai**od MEIN GIR JAUNGA Bai**od (I will fall down, spoken after sighting a pretty girl), Bai**od KYA MATCH THA (what a game it was) ! Friends hug each other, A GALE LAG JA OI Bai**od (give me a hug, my friend, you sister slammer). 

At IGI Airport in Delhi I breezed through the immigration which was a shoo in for me. The Terminal 3 is quite impressive. Restrooms (toilets) maintained nice and clean. No strong smell of ubiquitous Phenyle and dark brown betel stains at each corner. Our International Airports can now be considered truly world class. I saw a digital bill board proudly displaying Mahatma Gandhi's picture, followed by a visual of Chivas Regal Scotch. Ironically our Father of Nation never favored consumerism, nor he extolled Chivas Regal. Many streets in big cities in India bustling with consumerism are named as M.G. Road, after a man who abhorred consumerism.

I remember that in the year 1998, no sooner I came out of IGI Airport in the middle of night than I was treated like a hapless hare amid hounds baying for my blood in form of haranguing touts. I was forced to do an about turn and beat a hasty retreat, only to come out at break of the dawn to be ragged again. It was not unusual then for hapless passengers to dish out a $20 note (Bill) to buy themselves out of harassment at the Customs. Such things are long passe.

After checking in for my last leg of flight to Bhubaneswar, we settled down on reclining chairs as the sun brightened on the the horizon, revealing the array of Aircrafts on the turmac, spraying them with Orange hue. The Round trip return fare between Delhi and Bhubaneswar cost me only around Rs.6000. I remember paying at least Rs.12,000 for  one way ticket in 1990s, a stupendous amount then. How the affordability of airfare has changed in two decades !!!

No sooner I reached the boarding gate for the Vistara flight to Bhubaneswar, I could recognize the typical Odia crowd close by. In one of my prior trips I chit chatting with a guy sitting next to me. Before boarding the flight the gentleman excused himself and went to a corner letting out a letting out a loud fart and heaving a heavy shy of relief. He found me trustworthy enough and requested - "AGYAN ETE SAKALU GHARU BAHARI THILI. JHAADA SAFA HEI NATHILA. JOR RE JHAADA LAGI LANI. TIKE MO BAG TA DEKHANTU" (As I left home too early in morning couldn't get a clean bowel movement. Now got to visit the loo. Please keep your look on my bag). I dutifully obliged. 

The domestic terminal was bit chaotic, especially around the security gates. There were lot of people taking the morning flight. The departure area of the Domestic Airport before boarding resemble our BADAMBADI Bus stand in Cuttack. The Airport Authorities and CISF were doing a decent job, however the public were not following the Covid rules. Most were wearing masks below nostrils. Social distancing - forget it.

Once I saw a guy surreptitiously scratching their private parts in public. When our eyes met he pretended to adjust his belts with a "Not I" look on his face. The Airline crew were goading passengers like cattle towards to board the flight (hats off to the person who coined cattle class for economy class). In spite of several reminders from the Airhostess, many wear not wearing masks, if wearing, their nostrils were not covered. More later...

Journey from Atlanta to Paris - India trip 2022

 I was excited and a bit nervous upon my arrival at the Atlanta Airport. I thought both the Airport and the flight would be sparsely populated considering it is still early days of schools closing for the summer vacation. But I was wrong. We were on a packed flight to Paris. Our Covid Vaccination Cards were duly verified during the check in and before our boarding.

It's interesting to watch flights taking off and landing in quick succession at Hatfield International, Atlanta, arguably the busiest Airport in the world. This being the peak hour, every couple of minutes an airliner lands or takes off. Flights line up one after another in the gray sky, forming a string of hazy pearls extending into the horizon, as they wait for their turns to land. The Air Traffic controllers must be doing an amazing job. They are in a professional where error is not an option.

Remembered travelling in our DM School bus in Bhubaneswar when it stopped at Railway level crossings (those days the roads, the arteries of Bhubaneswar were not clogged yet, no bypass for flyover was necessary over the Railway tracks). As a goods train passed by I spent time counting the number of bogies. Now I don't have patience to watch flights landing and taking off every other minute, forget about counting them.

The flight to Paris were filled with a good number families with infants & toddlers - some of them cranky and cacophonous. Due to the Covid pandemic the corridors and toilets were regularly cleaned and sprayed. The toilet doorknobs were cleaned often and a bottle of hand sanitizer was kept right outside it. Thanks to the diurnal rotation of mother earth, flying West to East you lose time, see reduced amount of daylight. Again you gain time flying the other way round, as earth is round, vindicating the fact that what goes around comes around.

It was morning in Paris as the airplane descended on Charles DeGaulle Airport after 8 hour of flight under a crimson sky with sun looking like a poached egg with its sunny side up. Dominique Lapierre and Larry Collins might have wrote a different kind of "Is Paris Burning" by having a top view of the city burning under bright morning sun 🌞.

I was reminded of a joke on our ex-President Giani Zail Singh who was once travelling on a plane above the Equator. His secretary tried to flatter him - "Sir, can you see the equator below" ? Zail Singh responded "Yes. I can see the equator and a car is slowly going on it". What he actually saw was a lice walking on his long string of hair, which just happened to be hanging right in front of his eyes. This flight flying so low, Giani Jail Singh would have seen numerous lices, in form of cars crawling on the interspersed highways. 

As the flight descended piercing the silvery cumulus clouds, the lushly meadows started looking greener amidst highways crisscrossing each other. From top view the flyovers looked like a bunch of threads crumbled using bare hands and thrown on the ground in a haphazard way. 

Another 8 more hours of flight awaits me before I land in Delhi. I took some time to scan my poking eye around. Apart from Europeans, I could see a good number of Africans wearing long gowns. Saw a few Arabians in white cotton helmets, with their female folks tagged along in black attire from top to bottom peeping through tiny slits cut below their foreheads - looking like Ku Klux Klan members in black attire. Covid virus won't dare penetrate their impregnable visors. 

Throughout the journey I watched folks drooling over their smartphones. All heads down like Ostrich, they were busy fingering over the glaring screens of their devices. I have seen this in America, not unusual and unexpected in a nation where individualism rules the roost. But I have observed the same in Europe, Middle East, Singapore and India. Asian culture is more social and group oriented, where people enjoy a tete-a-tete, even with strangers. I saw many, including Airline crew busy dragging bag in one hand and texting using the other, clinging to their phones, baby sitting their devices.

Growing up back in the days in India, we use to chat about anything and everything under the sun, covering topics ranging from NANA BAHA GHARA RU, NANI BAHA GHAR PARYANTA (From Dad's marriage to Sister's marriage). Perhaps we have gone electronic doing e-Khatti (chit chat) on social media. In the year 1979, barely a 10 year old, I accompanied my Uncle to a play at his Alma Mater Vani Bihar, Utkal University. It was a symbolic Odia play which I could hardly understand, but still remember those lines 

OTA PARI JIBA BHAI 

NAHI NAHI HOIRE,

JIBARE MANISHA SAB

UOTA HEI JIBARE.

PITHI RE KUJA, KI MANOHARA....

Roughly transliterated,

You will become a camel, uttering no no,

Humans will become camel as days go,

How wonderful to have humps on back !

Replace OTA (Camel) by OTA PAKHI (Ostrich) and KUJA (Hump) with Smartphones. We have become Ostriches burying our heads inside our phones, the same way an Ostrich buries its head inside sand. The same drama is now enacted in another era. The nondescript person who wrote this Odia Drama (play) in 1970s was so prophetic and way ahead of his time. More later...

Departure to India - India trip 2022

 It is time to make yet another trip to my Motherland India. A long journey awaits me spanning seven seas, thirteen rivers spread across multiple continents. Few hours left before I leave and miles to go before I reach my final destination of Bhubaneswar, Odisha.

My trip is going to be unique, the first after a tangible relaxation of the Covid norms. This is the moment I eagerly look forward to, an exciting time before my journey to India. It is normally planned months ago with a lot of parameters factored in - getting time off from work, social, family or festive occasions, ticket price, weather (which may not be exactly salubrious now, but not too bad when you aren't left with much choice). 

Apart from cricket, arguably it is the weather which unites India in the month of May - being hot and muggy across the country. The much awaited monsoon is still in its pregnancy and yet to deliver,  with fiery sun breathing down fire on the entire Indian subcontinent. Barring a handful of places on higher elevations  like Srinagar, Simla, Bangalore etc, from Ahmedabad to Agartala, Chandigarh to Chennai it's invariably torrid at this time of the year.

I am too excited and ready to take on the heat. In life the feeling of apprehensive curiosity in anticipation of an event is much more pleasant than living the event itself. Right now I have the same feeling. It is going to be my 17th journey from Coke Land to my Motherland 🇮🇳 during my quarter of a century stay in the USA 🇺🇸. 

As the D-Day approaches, excitement builds up. Can't focus on work as mind is preoccupied about the trip and what lies ahead. People usually get out of home on vacation. We, the Persons of Indian origin go home on vacation. My friends in America find a bit odd that we visit our homes on vacation, when they travel away from home for the same. Yet there is so much fun homecoming when you are away from home.

Upon arriving in India, the initial days of jet lag and reverse cultural shock gives way to lot of attention from friends and relatives, a la an infrequent guest is treated more cordially than a regular one. Even if I try not to, I invariably eat like a Pig whatever comes my way, shit like a Bull and end up writing a lot of bullshit on Facebook when travel bug bites me to write travel blogs. Time is short and finite, engagements are many - way too many things to do, so much foods to sample.

Looking forward to make my short trip sweet by challenging my sweet tooth, splurging on an array my favorite Odia sweets which includes but not limited to, CHHENA JHILLI, CHHENA PODA, PAHALA RASAGOLA. The other stuff I cherish are Cuttack Mixture, freshly baked Naans straight out of Oven, numerous Street foods, AVADA - the temple food and much more cuisine to savor which I normally don't get here. Even if I get here, they never taste the same. 

I have made a solemn promise to myself to stay away from Pizza, KFC, Subway, Burger King or McDonald's (the last one I believe is yet to have an outlet in the smart city of Bhubaneswar). Not planning on visiting any Mall having seen the two biggest Malls in America - the Mall of Minneapolis and King of Prussia Mall in Philadelphia. I firmly believe in - Be Roman in Rome, eat Indian in India, eat a Rs.2 Bara over Rs.200 burger.

Excitement would be an understatement, I am so thrilled for a fun filled 3 weeks, with no work and full play. Dear Motherland, here I come.

Cat calling

 Since Covid Pandemic forced me to spend longer stretch of time at home, it has opened up a new relationship - interaction with cats in our backyard. We love them a lot, especially my wife who leaves no stone unturned in caring and feeding them, having named one as "Goonda" (An aggressive male feral cat with gray woolen like coat) and the other one a female cat as "Mila" (for her cool, nonchalant demeanor walk with swaying hips). She is a manipulative female cat and great survivor in the wild against all odds.

There is another cute male cat which is a frugal visitor. It has a dark hue with cute, white patches on its neck. Its feet are all white extending couple of inches upwards to his knees, as if he is wearing tiny white socks. So we call him "Mitten". The clean, healthy look of the cat tells us its a well fed house cat which strays into our backyard.

Both Goonda and Mitten are handsome males with majestic looks. They have symmetrical whiskers, large and piercing green eyes which glows in the darkness. In contrast our female feral cat is gray, thin furred, bit frail and plain looking. Only in the human species the females are known as the fairer sex. But it is a whole different animal in the world of non humans. A male lion, tiger, peacock or an elephant is much more handsome than its female counterpart. But one thing stands as the universal gospel - "Female of the species are more dangerous than male".

Mila visits our backyard 2 - 3 times a day and we feed her. Once in a while she brings in her kittens and breastfeeds them under our patio. She has great maternal instincts, always in look out for any harm on the way of her kittens. Occasionally I have seen her carrying them by teeth, hiding them behind foliage or in nearby storm drain to protect them from elements like extreme cold or heat and prying predators. 

Sometimes Mila vanishes for a few days, making us think that it has gone back to its owner's fold (if any). But the cat reappears, pleasantly surprising us. We see the kitties a few times before they eventually disappear. Not sure where they go. Nothing lasts forever. We enjoy the bubbly kittens jumping around our backyard as long as the spectre lasts and until they vanish. But we are still optimistic they would be alive and hearty - after all cat has nine lives.

Mila is a quintessential female - FULEI (full attention seeking), temperamental to the core. One day she will finish up the Salmon and Shrimp cat food we give it in minutes. Other day it will hardly touch it, sniff it and barely eat any. One day she will get cuddly, rub herself around my legs, use the space between my feet like a tunnel to hover around my legs in circles. Other days she would barely recognize me.

On the other hand, both male cats come roaming into our backyard, looking for food and sex. Whatever the "Meow Mix" brand fish, chicken etc we sprawl at them, they gobble those up pretty fast. The male feline duo would occasionally snarl at each other, fighting for courtship over the solo female Mila during the mating season, otherwise they mostly exist in peaceful coexistence. 

Earlier Mila seemed to prefer the  connoisseur Goonda who used to chase away a tyro Mitten. Now Mila has switched her preference to a younger and stronger Mitten with tattooed body over Goonda who is getting older and seems to have slowed down in his middle age. The hue and looks of the kittens bear the signs of change in course. Earlier Mila's kittens used to resemble Goonda a lot, now they look more like Mitten.

Who said cats are mere animals ?

They are not much different from us humans. In fact unlike the homo sapiens species who are intelligent animals, they don't wear any cloak of hypocrisy. A cat can give birth to more than a dozen litters every year. Because of increasing pet population in America, the pet owners are encouraging to fix them. Cats breed 3-4 times a year and they get really busy during the breeding season. 

Summer is real fun time. Each summer here has its share of fauna in addition to the usual flora in our backyard. There is so much to watch and observe, from birdwatching to feline fun and catfights. Now after seeing the degree of personal animosity, venom and vengeance among cats I know why fighting between two females is called a Catfight.

My Fascination with snakes

 Occasionally I see a snakes slithering away in my backyard. Most of them are rat snakes. They are harmless and non venomous. As weather warms up, the reptiles come out of hibernation. When it rains I can hear a lot of frogs croaking in my backyard and it probably brings out the snakes to complete their food chain.

Snakes have always fascinated me. There are so many myths related to them. They don't drink milk, contrary to the belief of many in India. In fact, milk can damage their digestive track. They swallow their victims whole from tip to toe. Their fangs aren't used to chew, rather attack and paralyze their pray by injecting venom. A snake contrary to the belief of traveling at speed of a galloping horse can only slither maximum at a 5 to 6 miles per hour. In Georgia its illegal to kill non venomous snakes. Nevertheless, they keep nature's balance by eating rhodents.

I always confused the two common varieties of Cobras found in Odisha in general and South East Asia in particular - "NAGA and TAMPA". NAGA is called Spectacled Cobra for its KATHAU (in Odia meaning wooden sandals) mark behind its hood. It is mostly yellowish - brown in color. When it raises its hood, the two circular marks behind its back resemble spectacles sans frame are clearly visible.

In contrast, its cousin TAMPA is called Monocled Cobra, its single circular spot conspicuously visible on its back. It is generally gray or brown in color which is known to fade away as the snake grows older. The monocled Cobra is more aquatic, prefers to be around the paddy fields and ponds, slithering inside the holes at the base of small embankments (called HIDA in Odia) separating the paddy fields and near the ponds, making them its abode as it finds plenty of food in the form of frogs and rhodents like mice in the surrounding areas.

Because of its shrill hiss, the TAMPA or monocled cobra is thought to be very aggressive. There is this popular urban (rather rural) legend in Odisha about the ADHEI KIARIA TAMPA, or the 2 and 1/2 paddy field chasing monocled Cobra. It is rumored that it chases its victim until a distance of 2 and 1/2 paddy fields. If a man outruns the snake till that distance, the snake gives up the chase to man's safety.

Chasing 2 and 1/2 plots of paddy fields is nothing but a figment of imagination. A la any other snake, the monocled cobra is rather shy and elusive in nature. It hisses or bites when feels threatened and gets defensive or hunts for food. Far from being faster than any glalloping horse, a snake's maximum speed on ground is no more than 6 miles (10km) per hour and this cobra is no different.

Snakes have poor eyesight, but have a tremendous sense of movement. The Jackals, being intelligent animal puts its tail inside the holes near the paddy fields and the pond to catch crabs. No sooner than a crab latches on to a jackals tail, it pulls it out of the hole to have its meal.

But sometimes the jackle is bitten by the monocled cobra occupying those holes. The neuotoxic poison has its effect, as the jackel becomes mad, miserably whines around and dies within couple of days. 

As a fitting finale to my blog on Cobras - it will be incomplete without the mentioning the King of Cobras, aptly named as AHIRAAJ or King Cobra. It is known to be 12-15 feet long, sometime reaching 18 feet. It can stand as tall as 5 to 6 feet, staring at a person's eyes. It feeds on larger rhodents and even on its smaller cousins, other varieties of snakes. The venom injected by an adult king Cobra is enough to kill 20 humans and can down out a huge elephant.

Odisha, my home state back home is rich in widelife and uniquely endowed with variety of snakes, including these 3 exotic varieties of NAGA, TAMPA and AHIRAAJ as the icing on the cake. It also has Russell's Virus (Boda) and Common Krait (Rana), both extremely venomous. Yet the majority of the snakes are non venomous. Let's protect this species rather than indiscriminately killing them, as they are important part of maintaining nature's balance.

Karna - the tragic character of Mahabharat

 Karna is such an intriguing character from our famous epic Mahabharat. He is an epitome of tragedy. Born unfortunate as an unwanted child out of wedlock, humiliated by all, cheated by Indra and cursed by his Guru Parsuram he never ever gave up on his duty and principles till end, fully aware about the inevitability of sticking to his malevolent friend Duryodhan. He stuck to his duty, ethics, principle and his friend till the end.

Apart from the only mistake he made by calling a hapless Draupadi a prostitute in front of everyone in packed Kuru Raj Sabha (Royal congregation), he did everything right. Karna repented later for this one time blunder in front of Lord Krishna when the God incarnate  approached him just before the Mahabharat war to consider switching sides. He said to Basudev - " At this point I simply can't ditch Duryodhan and go to the Pandav camp and even if I go there I can't show my face to Draupadi as I am so embarrassed for insulting her".

Shakuni, a sly character in Mahabharat who judge people by his guile and used them like pawns in game of dice in which he was an expert. One of them was Karna - the valiant, generous but the illegitimate son of SURYA (Sun God), a close friend and confidant of Duryodhan was seen as a person of utility by wily Shakuni as Karna was the only one who could match Arjun in Archery. In a scene from B R Chopra's famous television serial MAHABHARAT, Shakuni plots the death of the Pandavas with his plan to roast them alive inside the famous inflammable palace called LAKHYA GRIHA (The Jade House).

When Duryodhan was about the divulge the plans to his buddy Karna, Shakuni dissuaded him - "There is no question of Karna's dedication towards you, my dear nephew Duryodhan. But he is just a pawn, part of my larger game towards your goal of Kingship. It won't be wise to divulge all plans to him. But, keep your friendship alive, as he is our invaluable asset to take on Arjuna. Karna is a man of principle and it can be of dangerous proposition as a principled person can't compromise on his values. He can never be trusted to be part of such heinous conspiracy lest he puts a spanner in the wheels of my plan. It's prudent to tell him the stuff only as and when needed".

A righteous Karna stuck to his friend Duryodhan till his end. The scion of Kaurava clan treated him as a true friend and was sadder by the death of Karna than his brothers who perished before him. When the Pandavas after knowing the real identity of their slain elder brother came to light his funeral pyre, Duryodhan asked Arjun - "Did you shoot your killer arrow at your brother or your enemy". Lord Krishna broke the logjam in respect to their friendship - "More than all of you five brothers Duryodhan reserves the right to Karna's last rights". Sri Krishna was right.

There was no end to Karna's misfortunes throughout his life. Parasuram, Karna's Guru had high regards for his disciple and put him in the league of his other two famous disciples - Bhishma and Dronacharya. Yet he cursed Karna. Lord Krishna clearly favored Arjuna, his close friend and confidant. He was worried about the "Shakti" weapon granted as a boon by Indra to Karna. Indra, Arjuna's father granted that all powerful weapon in return for the "Kabacha - Kundala" the impregnable protective gear Karna was blessed to be born with. 

Karna, the great giver was forewarned by his father Lord Surya, the Sun God about the shrewd Indra engaging in his usual foul play. But still Karna had to give in to Indra's request as his magnanimous heart couldn't refuse someone asking him for anything. In return of his sacrifice Indra gave the indefensible, powerful weapon Shakti to Karna as a boon with the caviar that it can be used only once.

That always worried Lord Krishna. He deliberately kept Arjun away from Karna during the war as He knew that even He couldn't protect his buddy from Karna's powerful weapon. He strategized and brought in Ghatatkocha into the war. The demon son of Bhim humiliated Duryodhan by leaving him battered and tattered in the battle field. The crestfallen scion of Kuru dynasty prodded Karna to use his Shakti to kill Ghatatkocha.

When Bhim sobbed at the loss of his valiant son, Lord Krishna was seen standing besides him, smiling. Noticing this an irritated Bhim asked him - "Why are you smiling at the death of my brave son" ? Lord Krishna replied with his smirk, "Karna kept this ultimate weapon reserved for Arjun. Nobody could have saved him from this potent weapon. Not even Me". (Krishna wasn't shy of proclaiming himself as God).

After exhausting his one time use killer weapon on Ghatatkocha, Karna knew that his goose was cooked. He didn't last much longer in the war as he was shot by Arjun when he was helpless on the ground, trying to extricate his chariot stuck in the mud, yet another curse marking the end of an all time valliant hero of Hindu mythology. Karna will be remembered forever for not just as a great giver, also for his Valor, his loyalty, dedication and fulfillment of indebtedness.

Pakistan, an American stooge

 Pakistan has a long tryst with Allah, Army and America. The later has its sphere of influence on the Islamic Republic carved out in 1947 when the British left Indian subcontinent for good. The honeymoon and euphoria of a new country didn't last long as the nation was shocked when its founding father Quaid-E-Azam M.A. Zinnah passed away shortly after its formation. Zinnah knew his days were numbered for a long time and his trusted Hindu doctor kept it as a professional secret (Lord Mountbatten famously said had he known that Zinnah has terminal Tuberculosis he could have prevented India's partition. The rest is history).

Zinnah was succeeded by Liaqat Ali Khan, who was a more of an erudite, suave and pragmatic gentleman than a typical subcontinent politician. He took the conscious decision to side with America post the World War II when US foreign policy was founded on the simple principle of bullying - "Either you are with us, or against us". When India chose to stay neutral in a polarized world led by United States and the Soviet Union, Pakistan decided to join the American bandwagon - evidently to save its fledgling economy.

Soon Pakistani Prime Minister realized that to be on the American side always comes with a price. US wanted Pakistan to recognize Israel in return for economic aid. Liaqat Ali Khan politely declined  responding - "Our soul is not for sale". Not long after this incident he was assassinated while speaking at a public rally in Pakistan. The shooter was killed as soon as he was apprehended, leaving behind a mystery about the identity and motive of the real killer with conspiracy theory laced tongues wagging.

Pakistan continued to get successive civilian governments interspersed with multiple military rules. US mollycoddled the military establishment as and when needed, fully knowing its the Army which holds the real power in our Western neighbor - whether it rules overtly or by proxy. Prominent among them was General Zial Ul Huq whom US used as a weapon against the erstwhile Soviet Union during the cold war. Zia was a staunch Mullah who permanently veered Pakistan towards fundamentalism.

In the movie CHARLIE WILSON's WAR based on the story of Soviet involvement in Afghanistan and US government prodding Pakistan to arm the Afghan Mujahideens, actor Tom Hanks plays the role of the Texan Congressman who arrives in Pakistan and immediately proceeds to meet Zia. Low level American officials are known to get a rockstar welcome usually reserved for top dignitiaries. Charlie Wilson, just a Congressman (similar to our MP) asked for "Rye Bourbon on the Rocks", eager to unwind a long travel from the United States to Islamabad.

Under normal circumstances he could have had his wish fulfilled but it was the regime of Zia, a hardcore Islamist. The Texas was bluntly told that alcohol is not served in the Presidential palace and he has to shift to a hotel or to US Embassy to get his desired Whiskey. It is known that alcohol flows like river Sindh in spate inside the American embassy and consulates located in Pakistan. The annual July 4th Party held on American Independence day in US establishments in Pakistan is quite a spectacle.

No wonder the American Ambassador in Pakistan is often ascribed to as "the Viceroy" considering the influence he or she wields in local politics, often deciding the fate of the ruler. From the Islamic state's first Prime Minister Liaqat Ali Khan to the flamboyant Imran Khan, a whole lot of Pakistani civilian leaders have perished when the American establishment saw them as liabilities or too big for their shoes. Nothing changed in the last 75 years post independence in 1947, the cricketer turned PM Imran Khan being the latest victim.