Some mature diplomacy by Modi in Washington

Hats off to Modi and his team for doing some matured diplomacy in the just conculded first time meet of the Indian Prime Minister with his mercurial counterpart, President Trump of The United States. He showed deftness by focusing more on Business and Terrorism rather than the controversial H1B Visa issue.

The Indian team certainly did their home work well. It is known even to a layman in me that Trump's election plank was based on "America first" which runs counter to India's desire to protect and increase the number of H1B Visas which benefits Indian IT Company. By harping on it sans any formidable bargaining chip, it might have ended up pissing the unpredictable Trump off. It could even have led to a diplomatic disaster, which India currently facing challenges from an perennially irritant Pakistan and an increasingly belligerent China.

It's well known that American Presidents in their first term pursue their pet agenda, lest they are hell bent on ending up as an one term President. Obama had his Affordable Health Care bill on his mind during his first term. Similarly, Trump who is more of a center of the Right Democrat than a Conservative Republican is pragmatic enough to know that it all about jobs, jobs and jobs. 

Trump knows very well that it's not the Republicans, rather the Democrats from the states of Wisconsin, Michigan and Pennsylvania who put him in the White House. So he is going to pursue his America first policy come what may and compromise on H1B is preetu much out of question and non negotiable for him. 

In Odia we give due importance on STHANA, KALA and PATRA (Place, time and person) - everything has its own suitable place, time and person tied to it. Good job Modi and his team being prudent enough not to raise this issue, at least this summit not being the right place or time to do so.

Why we are a compromised lot when it comes to US

Just coming back from India where I saw a widespread coverage and hype of Modi's trip to Washington DC for his first ever meeting with the mercurial Trump, equally palpable is the absence of any excitement in American mainstream media about the visit. The fact that Trump would receive Modi in White House lacks the fanfare of the Chinese leader Xi's visit in the exotic Florida resort of Mar-A-Lago speaks for itself and tells a thing or two about where America's priorities lie.

My take after more than two decades of following multiple visits of Indian leaders to US - End of the day, we acquiesce to most of the Americans demand, the later invariably ending up with a larger than required upper hand. It makes us wonder why we Indians, unlike our Middle Kingdom neighbor China are so vulnerable to Americans and easily buckle under their pressure!!! We readily crawl when we are only expected to bend before Uncle Sam (our belligerent western separated - at - birth brother Pakistan is known to drive a much harder bargain).

Some say, it's the remnants of colonial hangover. Though India was a English Colony, the demise of Britain as a world power and the rise of Pax Americana is responsible for this. But I see another angle to it. For those elite of India who matter - The politicians, businessmen, Babus, judges, Dalaals (they keep a low profile but powerful nevertheless) et all have their near and dear ones to live in US or study, have studied or plan to study in some American Universities. 

Rahul Gandhi was a Havard drop out, the son of Diggy Singh, the Gandhi family's lapdog studied in Washington DC. Manmohan Singh has his daughter in US and many more examples, stating all of them is beyond the scope of this blog.

Even rabid US haters, especially a few Babus (bureaucrats) and Commies I have come across, are known to have their offsprings in America or have plans to send them to the land of racists, people with stress and to the same colleges they they perceive girls being molested and bullets fly in air with impunity.

No nation or person is above criticism, certainly not America. One is well within his or her rights to be a critic of US. Nothing wrong with such perceptions as every individual has rights to have so, but I find it utterly hypocritical to send their kids to such places they say sucks, but nothing more sucks is their hypocrisy.

I also know of rabid America hating babus giving parties after coming back from a sojourn to their proclaimed land of racists and Capitalist pigs. But it's another story.

Once I asked one such person if he would like to send his kid to US. He got flustered, his readymade forthcoming answer - "It would be my kid's decision". Fine, but I imagined the poor dad crying and pleading before his kid at the airport not to go the land of racists and rapists, lest he will forever disown his kid.

A la "Where Eagles Dare", in this context there should be a movie named "Where hypocrites galore". As the Lou Gehrig's disease is a rarerest form of disease, such blatant hypocrisy is that rare disease which has no cure. This inconsistency and duality about America is worse than Trump who tells Xi Xingping as a great President one day, while blasting the Chinese leadership the next. Don't be surprised if he embraces and praises Modi as a "Great Man" on Monday, only to take a U turn on Tuesday to blast India.

Back to US - India trip 2017

Back on American soil to be welcomed by a rain soaked Geogia and foot long grass in my yard, left to feast on a continuous month long rain during my absence. My neighbor welcomed me and said - "Your grass is so green". I replied, "Grass always looks greener on the other side of the fence", to which he laughed and continued, "Wish you had a great trip".

The cool air, moist and thick, felt refreshingly fresh after spending hours inhaling the breath and fart filled stale air emitted by hundreds of passengers inside the flights. My ride back home from the Airport felt too smooth for comfort. I missed the bumpy rides back home, the din and bustle, the cacophony of honks and the chaotic traffic, the murmuring of mosquitoes and clapping them to death and the yodelling of mongrels in the middle of night. 

Reminds me of Kamal Hasan from the movie PUSHPAK, who while staying in a posh hotel could not sleep as he missed the sights and sounds of his locality, where his deep rooted roots lied. A la one's own fart smells sweet, the pleasure of staying amongst your own is unparalleled, as one tends to falls in love with own millieu. Love it or hate it, amidst all these there is a unique flavor of incredible India which one does not find elsewhere.

The multiple flights I flew saw some bumpy rides - very much a part and parcel of summer time travel. I saw folks opening their windows to looking outside to get a view of it. Air and the turbulence due to it can be felt, can't be seen, especially at a height of 38,000 feet where there is no dust or flying debris to be visible.

The 1 hour 15 minutes long Groom Transportation Shuttle which I took to get home has its share of turbulence too. Midway through the drive, a lady sitting next to me suddenly burst into tears upon receiving a call. Her dad just died. She came all the way from California to meet her father who was not keeping well and wished she came an hour earlier to be at her father's bed side. Life and fate have plans of their own - do not always fulfill all our wishes.

The ex US President Ronald Reagan was known to doze off during conferences he attended abroad as he couldn't get sleep inside long flights. I also share the similar trait of not able to go beyond sporadic cat naps on long flights. My first working day post vacation awaits me. Due to the jet lag, late in the afternoon my chin is destined to drool and hit the space bar of my desktop keyboard.

Still drooling over my India trip. No black coffee or aspirin can assuage this post vacation hangover, only time will heal it. My trip did not went in vain. Travelled miles to achieve several milestones including my first visit to Coorg in Karnataka, meeting friends and relations, connecting to old friends and meeting new ones.

Still the feeling of homecoming to America is unique. Reminds me of a scene from B R Chopra's epic serial MAHABHARAT, during late 1980s. Just before the war starts, Duryodhan boasts in front of Bhishma that he has many warriors like Pitamah himself, Drona, Karna, Ashosthama, Dushashana and many more on his side. Pitamah Bhishma, the wise one replies back -"They all still have to face Arjun and ARJUN PHIR BHI ARJUN HAI (after all Arjun is still Arjun), elucidating the fact that Arjun is still above the rest. 

Drawing a similar analogy, I conclude that while I have seen many great places in the world, but America is still America. (PS: This is purely my personal view and one does not necessarily have to agree).

Good bye - India trip 2017

Love Chinees Dishesh. This is from a Billboard at a road side eatery somewhere in between Mandya and Mysore.

The Bangalore weather today had a High of 28C (84 Fahrenheit) and a low of 20C (65 F). Can't beat this weather in Indian Subcontinent, especially in the month of June. It probably explains the reason behind 5000 peeps landing up in the city every day in search of livelihood and to pursue their dream. The population of the city is officially little less than 8.8 million, though locals claim it has already surpassed the 1 crore (10m) mark.

An overwhelming majority of Bangaloreans (Kannadigas in general) love sporting moustache with a pleasant smile as the icing on top. Modesty, discipline, punctuality are their forte and they are certainly more professional compared to our fellow Odias. South is far ahead of the rest of India in these aspects, usual exceptions apply.

At a toll booth, I gave the man at the gate a 100 rupee bill (note) for a fare of Rs 65. He returned me a combination of paper bills and a few Candies as return for changes. I have encountered such situations earlier in Bhubaneswar. There are also not many takers for Rs.2000 bills if you purchase something worth less than Rs.1000. One day Candy is going to beat Dollar as the global currency for trading.

I visited the ORION Mall, hardly a mile away from my current location. A great multi storey building with cool underground parking and clean restrooms (toilets). While hopping in between  stores, you can't take in any shopping bag containing items purchased earlier. You have to leave your bags at the entrance and collect a token. After finishing your shopping you can return your token and pick up your bags. 

What's the similarities between a vacation, a consulting assignment and life ? All have a start date and a end date. Like all good things in life a vacation has to end one day. Before the India trip one is rejuvenated and filled with energy. Towards the end of the trip one is jaded, somewhat depressed. There is always an inherently internal wish you had a few more days to spent. Three, four or five weeks, however long you stay it is never enough.

Almost 4 weeks gone since I came to India. I had a great time. Wherever I went I got stomach full of food and heart full of affection. As the time to bid adieu approaches the excitement dissipates and a classic role reversal takes place. The ecstatic feeling before making the trip gives rise to a morbid, remorse feeling. 

In the wee hours of the trip it's always the endless cycle of last minute shopping, meeting friends and relatives, run errands, packing, weighing, repacking and re-weighing of luggages. The lack of excitement of going back on my part is in stark contrast with my son who is happier going back to his familiar milieu. Good Bye India. See you later.

Last day in Coorg Karnataka - India trip 2017

The white cloud covering the top of green mountains looked the ring of Saturn. Tooing and froing on uphill and downhill roads of Coorg reminded me of the city of San Francisco, sans the orderliness and infrastructure of the later.

Apart from hotels and restaurants the city is filled with numerous Spices and Craft stores, selling home made chocolates and wines too. From Ponnappas to General Kariappa, Coorg is known to be a big supplier of champion sports and military persons of India.

We saw several Coffee estates by the meandering roads surrounding Coorg. The cool climes, slopy hills, moisture ladden soil which can't hold stagnant water due to slant surface facilitate the cultivation of the popular beverage. 

We boarded a Toy train which hooted through amidst wild Guava, GUA (Betel nut), Jack fruit, wild flowers of many hues which includes but not limited to violet APARAJITA (Blue Bellvines), yellow Dandelions, Hibiscus, and many other flowers of red, white and blue. There were tall green and brown bamboo trees loitering around the hills of western ghats, which is said to harbor poisonous snakes. One of them is King Cobra which can grow 18 feet long, the venom from its bite is enough to kill 20 humans, even an adult elephant.

A sign at the Toy Train station clearly proclaimed in bold letters - "PLEASE STEP DOWN THE TRAIN AFTER ITS COMPLETE STOP". But no sooner than it slowed down, people started jumping off as if they were deserting a sinking ship. I won't be surprised in the process if someone gets injured or worst, blaming the authorities for lack of safety measured. Government may have plenty of shortcomings, yet it shouldn't be expected to teach civic sense to all.

Next stop was "Abby Falls". At its entrance I could smell the strong scent of a massive Jackfruit ripening on tree. Jackfruit, when ripens transmits its smell far and wide, attracting animals like Bear, Bulls and Jackels who love feasting on the yellow pulp inside the giant tropical fruit.  

The rapidly descending thick white stripes of water from the Fall was falling fast over a distance of around 70 feet, creating fumes of sparkling vapor at the bottom, then streaming and bubbling ahead. I was dissapointed by the sight of the trash littered around the staircase leading down to the Waterfall, mostly the non bio degradable plastics. Nature's glory has been spoiled by inglorious spoilts in us.

On our way back we took a detour to "Dubare Elephant Camp" on the bank of the river Cauvery. Didn't see any Jumbos, but saw plenty of jumbo sized home sapiens doing JALA KRIDA (water sports) - ladies floating in Salwars and men waddling exposing their 6 packs of fat in the sallow, swirling waters close to the river banks. We sampled some local made sugary chocolates to shrug off our jaded nerves.

While nearing at Kushalnagar, a tiny township on the way, I was surprised to see a dish named "Odisha chicken" on the menu containing mostly South Indian and Coorg Cuisine. On inquiry, I discovered that it was a special menu incorporated by the Odia cook employed at the hotel. Coorg being the City of spices was vindicated by the mouth burning dishes served on the "Coorg Veg Thali" I ordered for lunch. I can handle hot food, but the real fun begins the next day morning when I wish I had a portable Fire Extinguisher beside me.

Overall, I found the folks of Karnataka  courteous, mild mannered, law abiding and more respectful towards women compared to many parts of India. I noticed minimal ogling and salacious staring at women. But one thing is common everywhere I visit - the sight of heads buried on Smartphones like Ostriches in sand. More later...

Day I in Coorg, Karntataka - India trip 2017

This Sunday many weekend appointments and functions got canceled for the afternoon, with most chauffeurs reluctant to drive long distance. It was not surprising to find the reason. The palpable excitement in air was visible as India plays Pakistan in a cricket final which is expected to be seen by no less than 325 million peeps.

It was cricket all over the bulky Sunday edition of the Times of India which weighed at least a pound - the TV rights folks are ready to extract their pound of flesh in 10s of millions of dollars in advertising revenue.

Cricket between the two neighboring nations, the arc rivals who were separated at birth and fought 3 wars is no less than a war. One team is going to to end up getting Bouquets and the other brickbrats. The excitement is visible in all strata of society, probably a trifle higher in the lower middle class for whom it's fun with the prospect of additional income for some through betting.

Luckily, we were able to grab a cab which agreed to drive us long distance. On an excursion mode it was our turn to visit Coorg, a well known tourist spot of Karnataka. We passed through several skyscrapers scattered on both sides of the roads, with hanging Undies hanging out together with stripped NADAWALLA (stringed) Boxer shorts decorating their balconies.

Suddenly an eunuch came clapping towards us as we approached a toll gate. We pretended looking elsewhere, until our van rolled on towards the toll booth, diverting his/her attention to another vehicle. A guy was offering mineral water bottles at the toll gate to passing commuters, advertising for Godrej Gold county home fest. Consumerism has come a long way to India.

It was a good 4-5 hour drive from Bangalore amidst scenic rolling hills and small rivulets meandering through them with the bustling joy of a teenager. On the way we passed through the silk city of Ramanagar where the epic Hindi movie SHOLAY was shot. We stopped by at a road side eatery named NAMMA HALLIMANE (Our Village Home) which served us some homely made South Indian THALI (Plate).

We continued going uphills as the undulating road snaked uphill towards the Hill Station of Coorg. We took a break at a Buddhist Monastery called Golden Temple at Kushal Nagar, followed by another one at Nisharg Ghat on the banks of a fast flowing Cauvery. I noticed a slanting mango tree constipated with hundreds of mango unable to relieve itself of fruits where even monkeys won't dare. Lucky are those aquatic fauna and the folks downstream who can savor those organic tree ripened mangoes.

The mountain spring looked so pristine, it's bubbling sound musically so divine, as the spring dances it's way through the lush green flora. I now know why so many Bottled (mineral) waters are sourced from these. Springs to be marketed as pure and pristine.

There was magic in the Mountain air which felt very refreshing and full of fragrance - covered by a canvas of fleecy flotila of gray clouds sprinking light drizzle. Inhaling a lung full of air, you get a deep cleansing feeling. Coorg is so cool, literally. Didn't realize when I started murmuring the Odia song of Chitta Jena..

RE BANA JHARANA,
NAACHI NAACHI JAANA.
E MORA MAINA,
DHARAA DIANA..

O Forest Spring,
Don't go dancing.
O my Myena 
Always escapes capturing. More later...

Day I in Bangalore - India trip 2017

It is now time to say "Au Revoir" (good bye) to Odisha on the festive day of RAJA SANKRATI, but not before savoring the PODA PITHA (Baked Rice cake). Contrary to the belief that locals avoid travelling on the day of Sankranti, the non stop Indigo flight to Bengaluru (Bangalore) was full.

It was interesting to look at the profiles of the passengers at the Bhubaneswar Airport. Airfaires available at an affordable price juxtaposed with rising living standards have done wonders, allowing many to travel far and wide to hitherto unknown, exotic places. 

For some who ones upon a time used to travel by train, flying being one of the dreams to be lived before dying are now frequent fliers (in trains too those who used to travel in regular 2nd class have found themselves socially upgraded to 2nd class sleeper, 2nd class sleeper to 2nd class AC, 2nd class AC and above passengers now prefer to fly).

Apparently the Civic sense hasn't quite cope up with rise in social status for some. It was soon to be vindicated when I saw a passenger inside the airport surreptitiously scratching his private part in public. When our eyes met he looked flustered, lifted his pants a bit, faking trying to adjust his belt. I didn't disturb him any further, letting him enjoy the small pleasures of life on a muggy morning.

The Indigo flight rough landed at Bangalore Airport startling the passengers. I asked my friend Saroj Sarangi, a regular commuter between Bhubaneswar and Bangalore who was on the same flight. He said this landing was far from being smooth. Airline travel though the norm these days, has its share scary moments too.

But really smooth sailing was first few miles drive from the Bangalore Airport. The roads resembled Hema Malini's cheeks as once extolled by the Bihari politician Laloo Prasad Yadav. There was hardly any honking. No sooner we entered inside the city limits, than I saw a glimpse of the famed Bangalore traffic, with portions of road resembling more like the cheeks of Om Puri than Hema Malini's ( I can say it's still better than Bhubaneswar based on my experience so far).

My son got excited - "Hey dad. Look, a McDonald's over there". I hardly felt the same. After seeing the Golden Arch of McDonald's every other mile for more than 2 decades in US, the last thing would make me ecstatic was sighting a McDonald's in faraway Bangalore.

When I stepped out of the Bangalore Airport, it felt like stepping into an Air Conditioned room after spending a while outside on a hot summer day in Bhubaneswar. The capital of Karnataka is far cooler compared to the capital of Odisha, haven't felt any need for AC so far. More later...

Day II in Bangalore - India trip 2017

A lovely, memorable evening spent in the esteemed company of Dipti bhai and Kulamani Babu amidst book, booze and brotherhood. We disproved the old adage "2 is a company and 3 is a crowd". It was a great company of the triumvirate of us - as Dipti Bhai and I sipped couple of pitchers of the famous local draught beer with Fanta sipping, our moving encyclopedia Kulamani Babu shared anecdotes from tons of books already imprinted inside his mind.

One day an IT professional in Bangalore ate his breakfast inside his car at a traffic junction. At the next traffic junction a mile away it was already time to eat his lunch. This is of course a sarcasm ascribed to the vehicular traffic in Bangalore. Yet I won't be surprised if it comes true one day.

It was my first tryst with the famous (infamous) traffic of the metro city of Bsngalore. Travelling on a Friday evening especially after a shower can be nightmarish. A la the JHADI POKA (winged ants) who go helter-skelter after fresh summer rains, the vehicles of Bangalore seemed to have developed wings and went in a frenzy. 

Experiencing bumper to bumper traffic, I took the opportunity to take a peek at the evening crowd. It was still drizzling. The roads were engulfed by green foliage on both sides with pedestrians running with folders covering their head to get protection from the light drizzle as the rain abated. In contrast to bald Bhubaneswar which lost whatever tree cover it had during the super Cyclone of 1999, Bangalore has lushy green hippie hair.

At a major intersection I saw the big picture of a political leader surrounded by smaller leaders around him atop a billboard. On closer look, I noticed the bigger picture - Not even one of them was clean shaven, all looking alike and sporting similar moustaches with hair smoothly brushed backwards. Couple of guys standing under the poster also looked as their cousins. 

I could not read the Kannada script which looks very similar to Telugu. (I think the Tamil and Malayalam scripts are similar, the letters are more squarish compared to the round shaped script of Telugu and Kannada).

In spite of whatever the locals spite at Bangalore, the city has a equable, salubrious weather throughout the year. It feels so cool with no AC needed to keep cool. With ceiling fan on, covered with a light blanket with felt cosy enough for a good night sleep. More later..

Day XX in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2017

This is some real Bullshit. With the increasing use of tractors for tilling lands, oxens are no more needed. As unwanted female offsprings are known to be left at God's mercy on river Ganga GHAT (bank of the river), similar fate awaits the male kids of the cows. Many leave their young, male calves at the mercy of Lord Shiva to take care of his BAHANA (rider) Bulls. 

The area I live has a Lord Shiva temple in every mile, hence a good number of bulls and bullshit around. There are at least a dozen of them roaming free in our locality - big and small, of different hues and colors. 

They sleep around on the middle of road, non chalantly ruminating, graze and feast around trash at the dumpster. On occasions they're known to goad unsuspecting bystanders. They also cause of many traffic accidents, especially when they get excited at the sight of nubile cows and chase them around, inspecting to impregnate them.

In a scene from the epic silent movie PUSHPAK, the actor Kamal Hassan couldn't fall asleep without hearing the din and bustle from a nearby movie theater. Similarly, I am so accustomed to the our street mongrels that no sooner they start their chorous whining, than I sleep like a baby. 

Invariably around 10 PM standing under the street light right in front of our home, the boss of the gang, a big brown doggie stretches its hind legs, extends its head upwards, clearing the throat would start the melody "Woooo, woof, wooooo, wof", followed by others in and across the street. Lullabied by their melodious yodelling in chorous unison which would put Kishore Kumar to shame, I never realize when sleep overpowers me until the KOYAL (cuckoo) from a nearby mango tree acts as my natural alarm.

The road from my house leading to the Puri road barely a mile long, but gets narrow at certain points. If you are on a 4 wheeler and another one approaches from the other side, the traffic at both ends come to a screeching halt, as  the vehicles struggle to get through.

This morning I saw an old lady crossing the road in front of our vehicle. I told the person driving me to stop and let her go. He duly obliged, but the vehicles around us went on a honking spree. A few two wheelers criss crossed the old lady, squeezing through any 2 feet gap to wheeze past her. It takes only 15 seconds of wait to let an old lady pass, but time is very precious and punctuality is a virtue for many.

3 weeks of my vacation is almost getting over. It seems only like yesterday when I arrived here, reinforcing Einstein's theory of relativity - When you are on vacation or talking to a pretty girl, time flies. Time stops when you are at work or listening to a boring lecture. Everything is relative in life. Over to Bangalore now where I will be spending the next 5 days...

Day XIX in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2017

The Chicken egg roll, a popular street food here tastes far better than the bland, cabbage filled, crunchy Chinese rolls we get in US. "Sita Bhog", a sweet of different kind from the Cuttack Sweet Stall near Rajmahal Chhak tasted so sweet.

Before I started my India trip, I made a promise to myself not to eat any Pizza, Burger, or KFC during my stay. I have religiously stuck to it. With a plethora of food options available, it's not a difficult promise to keep. 

I feel flattered and flabbergasted by the heroic welcome I am getting, having done nothing heroic except visiting them. Whatever comes close to my mouth, I am devouring like a pig, especially the stuff either I don't get in US - even if I get rarely tastes the same. 

A perfect example is the duo diary products DAHI (yogurt) and CHENA (the cheese of Odisha. It is similar to the Cottage cheese of America and forms the base of most local sweets). Though outnumbered in terms of quantities and varieties compared to their counterparts in US, the local diary products of milk, yogurt, cheese have its distinct taste and unmatched flavor.

Same goes with the King of fruits Mangoes, now in season and plentily available. The Mexican and Brazillian varieties we get in US are no match in taste and texture to the sweet and succulent ones available here.

Indians in general and Odias in particular are champion hosts and I am taking the full advantage of their generosity. When it comes to treating guests, we leave no stones unturned. Visit any home, take it for granted that platefuls of food will be showered on you with tons of affection. 

Even if you frantically wave your hand over your plate saying "no more please" you still will be served more till you end up licking your fingers. Most Odiyas I know have a liberal spending habit, especially on food. The bulk of money earned by a typical middle class Odia is spent on food. 

But our fondness for food often leads to breaking the line (or queue as they say here) at fast food eateries, sweet shops and other public gatherings. While busy ordering at Cuttack Sweets, a guy from nowhere suddenly barged in. He had no patience to wait for another customer ahead of him.

Extending his hand holding couple of 100 rupee notes (bills) over my shoulder he ordered - "DAZANE CHHENA JHILLI DABA, (gimme a dozen Chenna Jhilli)" - a popular sweet here. I politely told him to wait for his turn. He responded - "TIKE URGENTE KAMA THILA. MAUSI PUA KU VETI THANTI. LAYTE HAI GALENI (Had a little urgent work. Want to meet my cousin. So, I am getting late").

I responded in Odia, "We all have urgent work and cousins, with an urgent urge to meet them". It didn't seem to deter his recalcitrance. Then I reiterated myself, this time transliterating what I just said in Odia to English. Now he miraculosly fell in line. In Odisha we love to respect those who speak in any language other than Odia - more if that language is English.

At marriage receptions breaking line is a common thing. While waiting for the server to pour on my plate, I saw couples of plates over my shoulder, both held by ladies. Though ahead of them in line, I stepped back to allow them to go ahead of me. They looked flustered and hesitant. With bewilderment in eyes, they backed down and said in unison, "APANA NIANTU (You take)". "No ma'ams. It's always Ladies first. Please go ahead", I insisted. "No no, you please go ahead" - they changed their line, forcing me to get my dollop of food from the server ahead of them.

One person who's concerned about my eating habits is my mom who is concerned that I don't eat enough rice. Like most mothers from our generation, a tall mound of rice eaten mixed with several side items assures stomach full of satisfaction. My explanation of the lack of need to gobble up redundant carb especially in tropical weather, falls into deaf ears. More later...

Day VIII in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2017

I would highly recommend all to visit CHOCO GALERIA, located on the ground floor of Hotel 7Saat in Salashree Bihar near Info city. Awesome ambience and quality stuff available at an affordable price. It is run by Mousumee Patnaik, wife of my friend Sanjay Patnaik who passed away a year and half ago. 

The newly built capital city of Bhubaneswar has been a city of immigrants from the beginning - mostly salaried class people from coastal Odisha with the exception of A G Office which had sizable number of folks from Andhra Pradesh. The original inhabitants, especially those from the Old Town area used to call the planned city dwellers on their outskirts as denizens of GOLAAM NAGARI (Slave City), ascribed to the Government servants residing there.

Also there were the BADAGADIYAs, the folks living in a village named as BADAGADA on the eastern side of the city and now engulfed by the gargantuan city. The Badagadiyas prided themselves as blue blooded original inhabitants of Bhubaneswar, bullying over those who recently moved into their surrounding neighborhoods. Often chided as MUNDA (diehard morons with little brain), they were known to be naive, slow witted and prone to violence. Their heads were rumored to be stuffed with cow dung, impacting their ability to apply logic and reasoning.

One day the head of the village who was getting persistent headache visited a doctor. He came back triumphantly announcing "Doctor checked my head and found nothing in it" which was followed by cheers from his fellow villagers. Though we were in awe of their muscle power it never detered us from poking fun at them.

Now Bhubaneswar has a sizable chunk from Western and Southern Odisha, not to mention out of state immigrants. Listening to people at stores, shopping malls, restaurants, drivers of Ola and Uber (many drivers came to Bhubaneswar as an opportunity a Bargarh, a Balasore or a Barhampur could provide) , I could figure out from their accents their place of origin as follows :

Sambapuri - Words ending with "Maa", like JIMAA (Let's go), KHAIMA (Let's eat). Though called Sambalpuri, the dialect varies quite a bit depending on whether you are from Sundargarh, Sambalpur or Kalahandi.

Nayagarh - Dasapalla accent where they speak in a poetic way with each sentence ending with "MA", eg, HELA MA (it happened).

Angul, Talcher - Sentence  jump starts with KIRAA, eg, KIRAA KUTTIBI JE (Will bang you)

Southern Barhampuri - TANKE BOILE E TRAFFICKI BADA BIZZARA EKKA (As they say this traffic is so irritating), their accent has a strong Telugu influence.

North Balasore, Bhadrak accent - KOODIE CHOORA SURSA CHOORI KALE (Twenty thieves stole mustard), with a tinge of Bengali sweetness and softness.

And so on. All scramble in the rat race to buy land, homes and apartments in the ever expanding city which will put the "Big Bang theory" to shame, akin to drunken sailors unsure about future. The city's water table and green coverage is fast shrinking. When the city commenced outgrowing itself, the inept and corrupt authority slept like KUMBHAKARNA (the legendary demon from our mythology who cherished sleeping). As usual, one day when they wake up it could be the classic case of - too little, too late. More later....

Day XVII in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2017

Today I had my tryst the BAUNSA PODA MUTTON (Bamboo Barbecued mutton - as goat meat is called in local parlance) procured from a local DHABA (Roadside eatery) on the Puri road. It tasted soft, spicy and delicious.

While ordering carry out (called Parcel here) at the DHABA, I picked up the menu and explained my choice in pure Odia to the waiter. He response in Hindi - SAAB,YEH PANEER ITEM ACHHA RAHEGA. (Sir, this Cheese item will be good). 

A la as American as Apple Pie, the guy looked as Odia as PAKHALA (water soaked rice, a staple food of the state). Yet giving the benefit of the doubt to the waiter, I decided to verify his state of origin- BHAI, AME ODIA BUJHUCHU. TAME BUJHUCHA TA. GHAR KOUTHI ? "Bro. I understand Odia. Hope you do. Where are you from ?" "JAGATSINGPUR RU AGYAN (From Jagatsinghpur), came the promp reply in Pure and Applied Odia. 

I love to speak my mother tongue in Odisha, an opportunity I rarely get in United States. Because I rarely speak the language beyond the boundary of my home. Talking in Odia is restricted over phone and "meet & greet" rendezvous with NROs (Non Resident Odias). 

But more and more NROs from my generation now a days speak less and less Odia among themselves - They drink PHEPSI (Pepsi in American accent), drive THOYOTHA (Toyota), and punch their Odia sentences with a liberal dosage of "Oh Boy, Oh Gosh, O man" and so on. The more you pronounce "P" as "Ph", "T" as "Th", the more American you are. So as long as I am on "Jagannath Land", I take opportunity to converse in Odia with the locals before returning back to the "Jesus Land".

The intermittent rain has brought down the temperature condiderably, by almost 10 degrees. For the first time, I could get the kick of chill out of the water from the shower pouring over me ( more than two decades of taking shower in warm water has taken its toll). I had to switch off the AC in the middle of night as it felt cold, never feeling the need to turn it on until midday. Monsoon rain has sucked the heat out of the air, but humidity still sticks around.

I have an account at the local State Bank of India from 18th Century. I always prefer a Thursday for my Bank visit, for the bank is invariably less crowded on that day. Thursday is the day of LAXMI, the Hindu Goddess of wealth - so a monetary transaction is best avoided on that day, lest one wants to attract the wrath of the Goddess to leave you in penury.

While stepping into the bank I noticed an elderly gentleman in walking stick just behind of me. I sidestepped, opening the door for a few seconds to let him in. Coulple of guys behind him were eager to sneek through, but I bluntly told them to wait until the Senior Citizen gets in. They looked at me as if I am an alien who just landed from another planet.

Today was the day of the crucial cricket match between India and South Africa. Cricket is the one and the only one game of the nation, it is no 1 to no 10, a one game industry akin to Amitabh Bachhan being the one man Industry in the 1980s. Other games are relegated to the spots from no 11 onwards.

Within cricket, batting rules the roost and is more popular and preferred to bowling. Even in the days of our gully cricket, we eagerly waited for our turn to bat. It was not unusual for many to stealthily escape from ground once done with the batting. Things haven't changed much. With South Africa batted first, many watched their innings discretely, while during the Indian batting more were glued to the TV. It probably explains why the traffic was thin during the evening hours - Sunday coupled with India's batting contributing towards it.

My unbeatable experience so far is with the OLA and UBER cab services - Very Comfortable, convenient, reasonably priced and punctual (Ola is better than Uber as far as punctuality goes). I was very impressed with my Ola driver today who refused to take the sizable amount of tip I offered to him. He said, he didn't deserve that much amount as tips. 

When I insisted to keep it, he finally relented to take only half of the cash I offered. I didn't want to dishearten him and agreed to pay him his desired amount. Such honesty and ethics is rare these days. More later...

Day XVI in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2017

Today was my tryst with Market Building, a local shopping complex strewn with street food vendors. My trip would be incomplete without visiting a place, as a trip to New York without seeing the Time Square - for the Market Building can very well ascribed as the Times Square of Bhubaneswar. 

Centrally located when the city was still a sleepy township governed by a Municipality, it used to hangout place for both young and old. And still is, apparent from the huge crowd I encountered there, jostling for every inch of space available.

At one of its entrances, a GUPCHUP (as Golgappa or Panipuri is called in Odia) vendor was busy perforating the large, crunchy, puffed shells using his long, uncut thumb nails looking dark from the dirt inside it. Instantly inserting mashed potato and chickpea paste into it, he dipped the shell into the spicy water stored in a large, earthen pot before distributing it to the surrounding buyers.

The vendor's customers, almost all of them girls holding tiny plates made of leaves (more eco friendly than plastic plates) were taking their turns extending their hands to the man, demanding - "MATE AU TIKE PANI DIA. MATE SUKHA GOTE DIA" (Gimme more spicy water, gimme a dry one). The multitasking man was super busy catering to their needs and counting the numbers consumed by each individual.

Done with their rounds of GUPCHUP munching, the girls left their leftover plates strewn around, as couple of pariah dogs started licking them, polishing off whatever they could in the narrow window of the timeframe they had before being driven away.

They were soon to be vindicated. The irritated vendor shooed them, as the hapless mongrels fled with tails well tucked behind their hind legs. The monsoon showers left puddles of water all over. Feeling secured and safe at a distance, the dogs started slurping from one of the puddles to quench their thirst post feasting on the spicy GUPCHUPs.

I bought a few goodies from UTKALIKA, a government owned shop, popular for selling gift items, mostly handicrafts related to the history of Odisha, its culture and traditions. Had a nice shopping experience, found the items quite reasonable. No vacillating prices and inconvenience from bargaining with touts. 

Not so friendly was a staff at the age old garment store KALAMANDIR. When I asked him to show me some shorts to pick, he pointed me to a few hanging at a corner. With a "take it or leave it" attitude and without making an eye contact he uttered - "this is all we got", as he looked elsewhere.

I walked out to look elsewhere and stepped into the NARULA cloth store next door. What a contrast it was ! Their user friendly staff showed me a plethora of shorts from various colors and stripes to chose from, never short handed with customer service. Like a SWAYAMBARA SABHA (Assembly of grooms) where a princess choses her own groom, I had plenty of choice on hand, feeling like a customer treated like a King. 

Stopped by at "Cuttack Sweet Stall" to pick up SITA BHOG, one of my favorite sweets to end a sweet day with a sweet note. More later....

Day XV in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2017

It's not apple, rather a Mango a day keeps doctors away. The King of fruits, a great source of Vitamin A and C is now in its peak season and plentiful. It is the Mango man's (AAM AADMI's) favorite fruit.  

The Indian Mangoes are the King of the King of fruits - its taste and texture the sweetest of the sweetest. The Indian varieties of Mangoes beat their Caribbean and Mexican counterparts we get in US by miles.

Best part of the Odia diet is its veritable mix of Rice, vegetables, fish, DALI (Dal or lentil) washed down by the soft, sweet, succulent Mangoes. The negative part - we eat too much carb in form of rice and potatoes, which is redundant in tropical climate and cause of sugar and triglycerides in blood.

Today is SNANA PURNIMA (The Full moon day of shower), marking the auspicious occssion of Lord Jagannath's shower ceremony. It comes on the full moon day of the month of JYESTHA, the summer month of the Hindu Lunar Calendar. 

Like a normal human being our Lord takes a shower on this day of SNANA PURNIMA (the full moon day for bath) and falls sick, suffering from fever on following days until the day of RATH YATRA (Car Festival) when he travels to his MAUSI's (sister of his mom) house a few miles away sitting on a chariot named as named NANDIGHOSA. After the ceremony, he gives DARSHAN (peek) to His devotees in GAJA BESHA (the form of Lord Ganesha).

This day, true to its tradition, was accompanied by stifling heat and humidity. The weathermen had predicted rain showers a week ago to arrive in next couple of days. The prediction stood the same for a week - prospective showers in next couple of days due to cyclonic  low pressure over Bay of Bengal which should pull in the monsoon moisture to quench the thirst of the parched mainland. 

Years back the renowned cartoonist R K Laxan sketched a guy standing alone at a Bus stop, getting drenched in rain whereas the rest are holding umbrellas. The hapless guy was seen telling the inquisitive onlookers - "Yes, I work for the weather channel. How did you know" ? The moral of this caricature - those who have common sense came out with umbrellas. Only the weatherman didn't.

The promised showers which remained long elusive finally came down early this afternoon. First it was all fart, no shit. Followed by sound of rumbles and wind, but no rain for a while, until the cloud constipation ended as the heaven gates opened up pouring out rain. A 30 minute shower led to an outage of 3 hours of power, @ 1 hour of power cut for every 10 minutes of rain in the Smart City.

The other day when we went out after fresh morning rains. 3 guys started oggling at us, rather at Tanujaa like they hadn't seen a woman before. Distracted, one of them fell on a muddy poodle covering a pothole, while the other two got busy extricating their buddy from the mess. We had a hearty laugh at the fallen hero's expense. Rain definitely brings in its share of fun and joy. More later....

 

Day IV in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2017

We NRIs (including me) give bombastic speeches about the low cost manual labor in India. At the same time we take the guilty pleasure of availing that, grabbing it at the first opportunity when time comes. It was my turn to do that by visiting a saloon close to our house.

This barber shop was clean, improvised itself over the years, a wall mounted AC being its latest addition. But I hardly noticed any change in profile of the folks gathered inside. After entering I noticed a few ahead of me in line. So when the hair cutter called me to occupy his chair, it surprised me, putting me in a spot.

Soon I realized the reason of me being pulled ahead of the rest. Those guys ahead of me were not customers, but free roamers needlessly hanging around. The reluctant hair dressers, not fan of these BALUNGAs (worthless weeds), wanted to avoid PUNGA (not to mess around) with the local brats - tolerating them as unavoidable nuisances.

One of them was combing his hair backwards standing in front of mirror from time immemorial, whistling from  top his snorted piggy lips. He took a break, wiped residual hairs off the comb, check it again by turning it over. Not satisfied, placing it close to his mouth, he tried to vacuum it off by blowing hair through his pouting lips. 

He resumed his combing operation, ploughing his hair backwards, uttering in Odia - KIRE KUNA (a common Odia nick name) TA SHAALI BAHAGHARA RU PHERILA (Did Kuna return from the marriage of his sister-in-law) ?  A guy reading a local newspaper got up, walked to the front door to spit out his betel stained saliva and replied - NA MA. SE E JAYE MEESSI KALLA KARINI. (He has not given me a miss call - a call on the cell phone which is destined to be missed).

The tete a tete continued as the barber focused on giving me a clean shave, used his blade in surgical precision reaching out all the nooks and corners of my face which I can rarely reach. He continued weeding out the unwanted hairs off my face, gave me a nice massage, soothing my jaded nerves.

I thanked him for giving me a clean slate. Adding my tip to the final payment it cost me less than a dollar. Can't complain, when I had a close shave for a tiny amount, as close and low it can get.

The Plumbers, Electricians, AC Mechanics et all thrive well and make a decent amount of money due to the city's explosive growth. The dignity of labor hasn't quite matched up to their earnings, but should eventually happen in couple of decades. More later...

Day XIII in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2017

Ran a few errands this morning. It took a long time, given the fact that things move at a snail pace here, especially the traffic. Time flew as the tropic sun pouring heat all over reminded me it's already noon.  

Looking for some cool comfort and refreshment I grabbed a glass the famous Lingaraj Lassi at Saheed Nagar. The Lassi (equivalent of Milk shake) was quite rich and sipping it was an enriching experience. At Rs.50 a glass, which is than a dollar, no one can beat the price and value for money.

While criss crossing Bhubaneswar I felt proud seeing several billboards displaying the picture of the students from my alma mater NIT (then REC), Rourkela winning the first prize in a Quiz competition organised by a (rather the) local International School. Technology or Trivia - NIT ruled both from our days.

In fact, REC Rourkela was the only Institute to represent Odisha in the prestigious and popular Siddharth Basu's "Quiz Time" program in DOORDARASHAN, the only TV Channel of the time forced upon by the Government on an optionless populace.

One can see huge commercial billboards adoring road sides, from making you fair overnight (there is a clear obsession with fair complexion here), removal of unwanted body hair through laser by a leg and thigh exposing girl (the city has got smarter with exposures these days) , to the self proclaimated strides made by the State Government with the lily white clad Chief Minister smiling with folded hands. 

Akin to make America great again, there are road side commercials proclaiming to make your hair grow again on your bald head just for Rs.999 ($150) with a contact number of 9439712345. Picture of a bald head before the miracle treatment was placed beside a lushy black hippie hair head post application of the magic potion. 

I saw a few black beads on the bald head which I gave the benefit of doubt as few leftovers by God's grace. On closure loom, those few dark spots turned out to be the dried out bird poops. There may not be enough public restrooms in the Smart City, but these Billboards do make the local birdies happy by providing a platform to use for rest and restrooms.

Spent an hour at my cousin's marriage reception in the evening at temple town of Puri. The highway leading to Puri in the evening hours was busy. The traffic on the narrow lanes of the abode of Lord Jagannath makes its counterpart in Bhubaneswar look like a walk in the park.

To the fake Robert Frost in me "the roads were dark and the light of the approaching vehicles were deep" - though the traffic was a lot lighter. One needs to be careful about cows sleeping on the road, dogs loitering around and humans approaching on your own lane from the opposite direction. More later..

Day XII in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2017

Biking is fun, but for a shorter distance. The local traffic is too erratic and unsafe to venture into main roads where one needs to be a zigzag Zen master to manoeuvre. 

There's hardly any designated Pedestrian or Zebra crossing in Bhubaneswar. You have to tip toe and sway your hips, waving and clenching hands like an eunuch towards the incoming traffic in order to walk to the other side. Road crossing is an art and one needs to be a trapeze artist to cross roads at the crossroads of Bhubaneswar.

Though it stayed under 40s, it was another muggy, lazy dog day summer. After a heavy lunch, I lied down reading SAMBAD, a vernacular Newspaper. Didn't remember when sleep overpowered me until wafted in AMBACHAARA ... LEMBAAACHAARA, the voice of a street vendor selling Mango & Lemon pickles. 

The voice appeared louder, gradually closing on me and slowly fading away reminding me of the Doppler's Effects we studied during Intermediate Physics. I turned my side yawning semi asleep. Then poof, power gone again. But thanks to the inverter, the fan kept on churning the air to my relief but soon the circulating air was slowly getting too hot for my comfort. 

I stepped outside, still wobbly when our maid cautioned me not to step into the floor she just mopped. Thanking her for saving my somnambulist torso from crashing on the slippery floor, I tip toed carefully trudging into the balcony. Another vendor came yelling DAHI BARA DAHI BARA (Vada soaked in buttermilk), a big tin container tied to the back of his bicycle with rubber tubes. 

It reminded me of an episode from my childhood, when defying our parents we bought DAHI BARA from such a street vendor to find couple of drowned cockroaches who had taken a Buttermilk burial. We were squarely reprimanded not to buy anything from such vendors.

Had a taste of BIKRUTA (Wierd) Odia today while I caught the local FM. Some of my non Odia and NRI friends speak far better non-accented Odia than the anchors on FM, especially the female ones who apparently think speaking accented Odia is a fad. More later....

Happy birthday Binod Kanungo - the creator OF GYANA MANDALA

Today is the birthday of one of Odisha's forgotten heroes. His name is Binod Kanungo, the man who wrote GYANA MANDALA or Encyclopedia in Odia. 

Born this day in the year 1912, Mr. Binod Kanungo wasn't highly educated, nor he earned any fancied degree. But he was a brilliant student and a voracious reader. Like many famous creative persons he was a school dropout, though he left pursuing formal education for a different reason. Inspired by JATIYA KABI (National Poet) Bira Kishore he decided to drop out of school on 10th of April, 1930 to join the Freedom movement against the British on full fledge.

After being released from the jail, in post independent India he had the option of plunging into the more lucrative profession of politics. But spreading knowledge was his motto, so he settled down in Cuttack which was the happening place Odisha at that time, a counterpart of our modern day Bhubaneswar. To give him company was his frugal possession of a 1 Rupee note, a cotton shirt, a MASINA (plain mattress) and his most prized material - An array of books.

He never again pursued formal education, nor thrived for a degree which could have landed him a decent job those days. A la the famous dropouts Bill Gates, Steve Jobs or Mark Zuckerberg, he went above and beyond doing a job. He wanted to do something more contributory and beneficial to the society.

So he started writing GYANA MANDALA or an Encyclopedia in January, 1954 - a first of its kind in Odia and in Odisha. It took him six long years to collect, compile and present all the necessary information in an age when Internet and Google were strictly fantasy. On 2nd of December, 1960 his baby - PRATHAMA SANSKALANA or the first edition the first ever Odia encyclopedia was born.

Winner of the Odia Sahitya (literature) Academy awards and Civilian Award Padmashree, he carved his niche before passing away in June, 1990 - the same month he was born. May Odisha produce more pioneers like him.

Day XI in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2017

The Monday started with a gray sky and cool breeze filled with promise of rain. It made gray, the color of gloom, turning to be the harbinger of joyful expectations in a city already baked at 43 degreees (110 degree Fahrenheit heat) topped with sultry humidity just the previous day. The approaching rain from the distant horizon which brought respite from the stifling heat was welcomed by one and all.

I got caught in the sudden storm while taking a morning walk in our neighborhood. The perfume of fresh rains on parched earth engulfed the air, its fragrance better than the bestest of French perfumes. The leaves and small twigs from trees swirled around as silvery rain lashed through the dust bowl, releasing its all pervading steam laced fragrance.

I started taking longer strands, walking on the sidewalks covered with protruding edges of kiosks with water dripping from them. The dust now settled down, forming a slightly muddy slush, splattering all over the legs. The ubiquitous Brown Bull inspecting a cow for insemination was forced to abort his foreplay to take shelter under the foyer of a nearby shop.

Couple of mongrels now occupied the spot vacated by the bull near the Giant Bovine's comfort zone on the sand mound and rolled over it to absorb the coolness from the freshly wet sand. The rain started pounding faster, plattering on the asbestos roof of the road side kiosks. 

The two pariah dogs moved under the shelter, giving a glancing look at the Bull at the other side of the foyer. The Bull was oblivious of their presence, busy nonchalantly ruminating its food intake and over a missed opportunity.

After a while the Bull surreptitiously put its head inside a sack of vegetables to begin his breakfast. The store owner shooed it away. The Bull trudged its way forward to the nearby kiosk where he was welcomed with MAHADEB MUNDIA (Salute to the Supreme God). Being the official carrier of Lord Shiva, every Bull has his (Mon)day.

Finally I made back to home, wet and wild after taking bath in nature's pre Monsoon showers. The morning rain kept the temperature at bay throughout the day. The best way to pass a relatively cooler afternoon is to take a short, refreshing Siesta which recharges the battery of mind and body.

This evrning my son got curious at a mound of dung near our main gate and queried - "Dad, what's that ?" "Don't worry. That's some real Bullshit" - was my response. "No kidding", my son replied back, unable to fathom the bullshit he saw was literally true. More later...

Donald Trump's rant against India on Paris Climate Deal

Donald Trump repeatedly ranted against India as he dropped out of the Paris Climate Deal by saying - "India makes its participation contingent on receiving billions and billions and billions of dollars in foreign aid from developed countries".

It's a typical Trump hyperbole. When it comes to creating imagery no one can beat him. He makes use of his great persuation skills in his public addresses "Hey. Look at the crowd. There are tens of thousands of them". There might be actually a thousand, but the impression amplifies and sticks in the mind of the targetted audience is, "Wow, how popular is this guy !!!". 

He once said - "ISIS douses you in oil, burn you in a cage, they chop your heads", making hand gestures to drive his point. Don't think ISIS will ever come to the American heartland to make Kentucky Fried People, but the image of such brutality created by his oratory skills creates a sense of apprehension of Trump being their protector, their Knight in Shining Armor. 

Such visuals inside the brain creates a persuasive image, inculcating a lasting impression, more lasting than facts and figures. Images created via Emotions is more influencial than logic - as love (its opposite hatred too) is strongest when its unreasonable. Human heart is known to override its judgemental head.

Similarly Trump' claim that India was seeking "billions and billions and billions" is no doubt a gross exagerration. Yet it reinforces the adage - "All politics is local". We may not like Trump, but his voters like him and he cares for them. The rest of the world can hate him, but it hardly matters to him, nor he cares. 

It is important to note that President Trump has proved different than the candidate Trump - his campaign video addressing to Indian Americans ABAKI BHAAR TRUMPH SARKHTAAR (this time it's Trump Administration) not withstanding. He doesn't care much about India and did not think twice before being overtly critical of India - especially a few days before his first ever meeting with Modi as POTUS. 

Understandably, there is lots of outrage on Trump's statement. There has been war cries in a section of media, social or otherwise, a few wanting Modi to cancel his scheduled meeting with Trump.

But such decisions in haste would be immature diplomacy at the best. Even German's Merkel and Mexico's President - the nations with whom US has a lot at stake are playing defensive. With U.S. having a tremendous upper hand vis a vis India, it will be immature for Modi to call spade a spade, as it will backfire on the later. 

With 2.5% of our share of world trade and of least strategic importance to US, I don't think we are in a great position to drive a wedge. US is still the Superpower and India needs US MORE than the other way round, especially when surrounded by a resurgent and belligerent China. Diplomacy is not a zero sum game played on emotional whims, rather it needs a lot of deftness to protect a nation's self interest.

For the Modi supporters who did YAGYAN (Sacrificial fire) for Trump's victory, they can chant this epic song from the movie "Bhaag Milkha" - 

HAVAN KARENGE, 

HAVAN HARENGE,

HAVAN KARENGE

as only Trump can match the GARAM HAWA emanating from the HAVAN fire by his own "Hot air".

Day X in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2017

Power went out again for couple of hours on a steamy Sunday morning. My father's take - the Electricity Grid folks are tuning up their system to ensure uninterrupted power supply for this afternoon's One day Cricket match between the arch rivals of India and Pakistan. He was probably correct. The game got multiple interruptions due to rain, but the power supply for the entire duration of match stayed uninterrupted.

Certain small things give me the biggest pleasure in my life. They are - Scratching private parts on a hot, humid day, a long satisfying fart and watching India defeat Pakistan, whether a Cricket or Hockey game (A defeat by Gandhi family led Congress comes a close second). Just the Opposite happens when the role is reversed. A defeat of India by Pakistan creates a morbid, depressing feeling. 

During my growing up days, the later used to happen more frequently. India's loss to Pakistan in cricket (in Hockey as well) was a norm, a rule rather than an exception. Their fast bowlers Imran and Akram would destroy our batting, their batsmen Miandad, Salim Malik and Saeed Anwar would smash us into pulp.

It happened too often for comfort, to the chagrin and frustration of the cricket fan in me. India could never come out of the jinx of getting hit out off the ropes by the famous last ball six by the mercurial Paki batsman Miandad off Chetan Sharma's delivery in April, 1986. 

So much so that, there was only a solitary victory of India over Pakistan until November of 1991. After a brief blip in the radar, our losing streak continued in Harjah (Sarjah, as sarcastically called then, ascribed to us getting frequently vanquished by our next door neighbor in that venue).

Since then India has come a long way. Its players no more capitulate under pressure. Rewind back to the years of 1980s and 90s. India facing a virulent Pakistani attack. The body language of the Indian batsmen, their apparent nervousness visible from their sweat beads. It was not the prickling humid heat of the subcontinent, rather the steamy, pressure cooker atmosphere which caused swearing. India struggles and after Sachin Tendulkar gets out, the rest make a beeline to the dressing room.

Now fast forward to 2017. Under the same situation, Kohli and Yuvraj at crease showed hardly any visible sign of nervousness. They looked determined and played some sensible cricket under the circumstances, guiding India to victory. Our Achilles Heels of the lack of aggressiveness and crumbling under pressure is now a thing of past. What matter more, the fighting spirit, professionalism and killer instinct of our cricketers have increased many fold.

Nothing ever gets India united and brings out the patriotism more than this game called cricket. It's arguably the only instance, at least for a day, we don't see ourselves as a Punjabi, Marathi, Tamil or Odia when India wins a cricket match against our obsessive neighbor, but rejoice as Indians. 

Such is the passion of the game, it's either flowers or brickbats as far as fans go. Let's enjoy the flowers for now while our determination doesn't wilt, as you never know when the brickbats would follow. Congratulations Team India, good luck for rest of the tournament.

Day IX in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2017

My experience with OLA and UBER cabs so far has been extremely positive. They arrive on right time, comfortable cars with reasonable fare. A OLA driver told me that through slow during day, demand picks up after evening. More non Odias who have a sizable population in Bhubaneswar make use of the cab service than the Odias of the city - per my Ola driver.I am

Not so positive experience with the Bhubaneswar traffic. Though the roads have got a whole lot better, the civic sense of the people has gone worse. Suddenly an autoricksaw or a two wheeler will barge from nowhere. Big vehicles would be parked on the middle of the road. 

Folks driving in opposite direction on the their lanes is a common sight, with police standing helpless.There are still intersections manually operated, with the traffic police doing gymnastics in heat and pollution. It must be stressful job. Time to turn all traffic junctions electronic.

In Bhubaneswar most trees are chopped off for commercial purposes, resulting in the loss of ecology supporting flora. Our neighbor has a huge garden adjacent to ours where he planted several trees. But one fine morning he decided to make commercially the best of it by cutting down the most trees and constructing tiny asbestos roofed houses, housing a bunch of families cramped like sardines.

Only prominently visible tree left is a giant Jackfruit tree pregnant with its gargantuan fruits protruding, dangling all over, some touching our fence. It's base and trunk used as urinals. I shouted HEY HEY at a guy peeing on the tree trunk. Flustered, he fled in dishevelled state, grabbing his LUNGI as it came off couple of times, scrambling to pull it on his waist.

I should have knocked on wood when I said earlier that Electricity hasn't played truant so far. For last few days it has been little freaky, going on off for a few minutes at regular intervals. No one can play better hide and seek than the electricity in Odisha. Last morning it went on summer vacation for a little longer for my comfort. More later...

Day VIII in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2017

During the mid 1990s there was this huge rumor of someone inventing a machine which could convert water to petroleum. It came all over the news at that time and most bought it.

Similarly this summer with 40 degree heat with humidity can do similar stuff. The human body can convert water intake into pure, unadulterated mustard oil in the form of pee in a few hours. It can be very well be named Morarjee Brand Mustard Oil, named after Morarjee Desai, the ex Prime Minister of India who had this fetish of drinking urine. Jokes apart - Drinking plenty of water is a must to stay hydrated during this weather.

Afternoon saw some respite from the stifling heat in the form of cool breeze wafting from a distance. I smelled a thunderstorm nearby. It turned out to be true, as soon I got the news of a bout of KALABAISAKHI (summer time thunderstorms) pounding few miles away in the North side of the city. Our side of the city got the same couple of days before. It was mother nature's turn to do an equable act on the city.

As we eat a lot of hot, spicy food flashes of cold water is more ass soothing and cleanse feeling than using toilet paper. The softest of toilet papers can handle Subways Sandwitches, as a Mug of Cold water would manage Chicken Tikka Masala better.

An NRI in India once went shopping for Toilet paper. The store was out of it. Said the furious NRI, "What kinda store you have, you don't carry a necessity item like Toilet Paper ?" "Sorry Sir", The store keeper responded. "We don't have toilet paper but we have plenty of sand papers. TIKE ADJUST KARANTU or THODA ADJUCT KIJIYE, (Please adjust a bit)."

I am a strict believer in the adage - Be Roman while in Rome and not looking around for toilet papers. At least in this aspect we Indias are so environment friendly. If Westerners are taught the use of LOTA (Mug) it will be no flash in the pan, saving millions of trees from getting chopped. More later....

Day VII in Bhubaneswar India trip - 2017

This morning a gentleman queried me - TRAWMPAW (Trump pronounced in Colloquial Odia) KEMITI ACHHI (how is he) ? The way he spoke it appeared as if I talk to the President of the United States on daily basis. He continued further, "Kulbhushan Jadav KU PHAASI NA DABAKU TRAWMPAW Pakistan KU KAHICHI" - Trump has instructed Pakistan not to hang Kulbhushan Jadav.

"Where did you get this news Sir ? " - I got curious as the news sounded too true to be believed. The gentleman responded - "Trump has said that the ICJ order must be respected".

I replied - "Haven't heard or read anywhere Trump saying that ICJ's verdict needs to be respected ! Even if he said so, this hardly means anything and shouldn't be construed as anywhere close to Trump directing Pakistan not to hang Jadav else face an ultimatum, though I sincerely hope for the poor guy's early release and return in single piece".

The gentleman, long retired from the Government services went on further, "Are you on LTC from your company (Leave Travel Concessions - an annual coverage of travel fair for an employee on vacation") ? "No MAUSA (Uncle). Unfortunately they don't", was my response, "I wish my company pays for my travel during vacation - it would be something nice to have". I could feel the feeling of one upmanship in his eyes 

A very common query I used to face during Obama's 8 year in office - "How come Obama who does not a look like a foreigner (euphemism for White) has become the President of America. My usual explanation, "Not all Americans are Caucasians though most of them are. Obama is an African - American in real sense (his Father is from Kenya and mother an American) who by virtue of his talents and hard work became arguably the most powerful person on earth. Guess the elevation of Trump as the new President has made this question redundant.

A person, a Modi BHAKT (Devotee) once asked me - "I heard that Obama regularly takes political and administrative tips from Modi ?" I chuckled and choosed not to respond as I didn't want to dishearten the fan in him.

Another hot and muggy day here in Bhubaneswar. Coinciding with handful of days prior to the arrival of monsoon in Odisha, this time is 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 take solace from a free Sauna for a few days, praying for early advance of monsoon.

Though a rough day otherwise, the weather turned salubrious towards the evening with bursts of wind bringing in some solace to the parched souls. From a distance flashes of cloud to cloud lightening suddenly charged the atmosphere, bringing in cool wind gusts through the deep, dark contours of the vast array of Mango, Jackfruit, Papaya and BELA (Stone Apple) trees - the last of the green foliage still standing tall in the newly christened Smart City.

The swaying coconut trees looked like Wind Mills, their branches a la giant windshield wipers were seen swish-swashing the silvery gray sky amidst a backdrop of bright shining stars. It was a pleasant feeling of tranquility spending time atop our rooftop, relishing the wind shower which briefly reminded me of the Old Bhubaneswar. More later...