Time for Goodbye - India trip 2021

 A Math question for today. The first few lines of an Odia duet I overheard the other day.

Boy - TO SEXY SEXY ANTA DEKHI

           MO DIL FIDA HELA.

Girl -  TO STRONG STRONG BODY DEKHI

           MO NAZAR LAKHI GALA.

Calculate how many English, Hindi and Odia words are there in this so called Odia song loaded with tons of vulgarity. It is high time for the legendary Odia singer Akshay Mohanty to take a rebirth to save Odia music from adulteration, cataclysmic alteration and eventual extinction. 

This isn't the sole example. At a local sweet shop I saw a purely Odia looking girl talking in pure Odia with someone on phone suddenly taking a pause and asking another pure Odia shop owner - "BHAYA JALEBI DENA". Bhai has become Bhaya and Jilapi has turned into Jalebi. Dhantera has replaced Akshi Trutiya. We celebrate Lori. Nothing wrong in imbibing North Indian culture, but how many of them celebrate Raja or Kumar Purnima ! North Indian invasion is not just limited to festivals. Nani and Apa have become Didi. Bhinei has become fashionable Jiju and so on.

A lady who I used to address as APA (elder sister) now insists on being addressed as DIDI (as they address elder sister in Hindi). "APA, NA KADALI CHOPA (Banana peel), MOTE DIDI DAAKE (call me Didi)" - she retorted back as I addressed her as APA. I got the message loud and clear. Ekta Kapoor's serials are clearly having their effect. First time I heard the word "bro" was in Hollywood movies and after coming to America. Now bros are roaming rampant in Bhubaneswar, many address one another with "Hi bro". 

For someone from current generation of middle class in Bhubaneswar being closer to Hindi and English sounds "Hef" (the word used for being cool here). The Forest Park dwellers, Netflix and Amazon Prime watchers are one step ahead of them in "Hef" category, as they chew "Phew, Oops, Shit" in English - for them Hindi is so passe.

In the United States most places open for breakfast quite early, between 5 AM to 6.30 AM. Then open for lunch from 10.30 and dinner at 6 PM. Here breakfast stalls open after 8 AM, most restaurants around 9AM. Lunch is eaten not before 2 PM and dinner often after 10 PM. With such late dinner one can imagine eating a late breakfast. But at our home here we don't eat that late and it keeps me sane. I prefer to have my cuppa tea early in the morning, but lunch at 2 PM and dinner at 10 PM isn't my cuppa tea.

There is a severe shortage of Rs.2000 notes (Bills) though Rs.500 notes are in plentiful. I hate to have a bulging out pocket filled with lower denomination notes in it, so carrying Rs.2000 bills is my preferred option. Yet couple of banks I checked out couldn't provide me with any 2000 rupees note. Someone told me his reasoning behind this shortage - that Rs.2000 notes are mostly used for black money transactions and hence much sought after, eventually becoming elusive for commoners. Conspiracy theory or otherwise, it made sense.

Overall trip went well. My RT-PCR test, a requirement to take within 72 hours of boarding an international flight came clean. Though bitten by mosquitos multiple times so far no symptom of Dengue. Ran lot of errands, did some charity work which includes helping a poor family clear their medical bill and paying an academically bright but needy student buy a laptop. The feeling was more satisfying than visiting a temple.

When I loaded some Airtel minutes to my local mobile (cell) phone, I was prompted to speak out my phone no. Speaking "96688" as nine-six-six-eight-eight" is often frowned upon and not properly understood. You need to pronounce 66 as "Double 6", 88 as "double 8" and so on. Being out of touch with the milieu for a while, it took me a while to figure this out.

This eminent writer R K Laxman sited this reason for him to stay back in India when he had the option to settle abroad - "Where on earth you will find so many variety of characters to write about !!!" He wasn't far from truth. No place under sun can match India in the richness of flora, fauna, chaos and characters to write about. Often chaos and disorder brings the fun and frolic out of life rather than orderly tidiness.

What's the similarities between a vacation, a consulting assignment and life ? All have a start date and an end date. Like all good things in life a vacation has to come to an end. Before vacation 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.

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.  Now the time has arrived to bid adieu to my motherland. Good Bye India. See you later...

Day XXI and XXII in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2021

 During my initial days in Odisha, the incessant honking and zigzag traffic felt little irritating and occasionally annoying. But it is nothing compared to the "Auto-cracy" I see in Bhubaneswar. The 3 -wheeler vehicles called "Auto", a short form for Autorickshaw try to outsmart and outrun each other in the rat race of catching the next BHADAA, the Odia term meaning rental passengers, akin to the rat race of news channels for higher ratings (TRP).

As there were hardly any Zebra crossing here, it took me a good 5 minutes exhibiting my ass swinging skills to cross a 20 feet wide road. Road crossing is an art in Odisha and one needs to be a trapeze artist to cross roads at most crossroads of Bhubaneswar. You not only have to deal with the incoming traffic, you have to deal with stray dogs, cows and bulls competing for their space on the road. It took above and beyond my normal hip swaying skills to cross the road which would have made any danseuse proud.

After a bout of morning showers due to a tropical storm, I drove to the nearby Samantaraipur Chhak to get some ALU CHOP (potato cutlet) - one of my favorite snacks. Alu Chop tastes better in Odisha as French fries taste better in America. The area is full of street vendors on both side of the road selling vegetables. The place reminded me of an incident from one of my trips to India a few summers ago. Visits to India is always memorable. Incredible India, full of sights and sounds with wonderful imagery you will find nowhere.

One fine morning I came to this vegetable market to do some shopping and catch a glimpse of the milieu. No sooner I finished my purchase from a vendor than I heard someone shouting MAHADEB MUNDIA (Salute, O Lord  Shiva. The venerable Bull is the ride of our Hindu God Lord Siva). I turned my head to notice a huge Bull sniffing vegetables hardly couple of feet from me. The mountain sized bovine acknowledged my neighbor's greetings by nodding its head while happily munching the veggies fed to him.

A man suddenly arrives at the scene clad in LUNGI (A loincloth wrapped around the waist), scratching his private parts in public (blame the hot and humid weather for that) and asked the lady vendor "ALO BAIGANA KETE NEKHA meaning "Hey, how much is the Brinjal ( Eggplant ) ?" Then from nowhere comes another woman in rags shouting explicit at someone who refused to part her with vegetables. 

She started cursing the vendor's whole family to die from BAADI (cholera, a killer disease from yesteryears, now defunct). She could have cursed her to die from Covid which was the scourge here. One has a better chance to perish these days than Cholera. She also went on accusing the lady vendor of soliciting illicit relationship with her mothers and sisters. I couldn't understand why she didn't direct her anger towards her father and brother rather than mother and sister. Apparently we are still a male dominated society.

After being content from covering all the 14 generations with all her curses she finally relented. The lady selling the vegetables ignored her and went on shouting BAIGANA BAIGANA (eggplant eggplant). I asked the lady vendor the reason behind the other woman's sudden outburst. Before she could answer my query a man in loin cloth and unkempt hair told me "She is a mad woman. Nobody takes her seriously". 

As he walked away the vegetable vendor started giggling. I asked her what's so funny ? She said "Babu (Sir ), this man just told you that the abusive woman is PAGELI ( she-mad), right ? " "Yes, I think I heard him loud and clear", I replied. She continued giggling "Hee hee. He is no different. He is a PAGALA (he-mad) too."

Now trying to make sense of the madness surrounding me I swept off the beads of sweat from my forehead as the tropical sun was peaking right over my head. It was time to rush back home, far from the madding crowd. More later...

Day XIX and XX in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2021

 Yesterday afternoon as I came out a Shoe Store, saw couple of guys passing comments (local lingo for catcalls) directed at a girl passing by.

"EMITI SUNDARI KEMITI HELA

KOU PANI RE GADHAU THILA".

Roughly transliterated 

How could you turn out such a beauty,

In what water you bathed to be so pretty.

The girl didn't appear to be insulted as she stepped inside a Autorickshaw. Either she didn't care or took it as a compliment.

Two Babus are wrestling for the topmost post of the President of Bhubaneswar Club - A popular watering and networking hole in the capital located in the heart of the city. The lesser mortals are fighting for the lesser important positions. Last year's contest between Trump and Biden will pale in comparison to the aggressiveness in vote soliciting going around for these cherished posts. The campaign reminds me of BJB College Student Union Election. There is an African proverb - When two elephants make love or war it's the grass which suffers. Many Club members are irritated by way too much campaign solicitations in form of personal calls, emails and Whatsapp messages. Some freeloaders are taking advantage of campaign parties held at Bhubaneswar's premium hotels.

I went to do some marketing in Market Building - the Times Square of Bhubaneswar (Shopping is called marketing in local parlance, not to be confused with selling any product). The place wasn't too crowded. I made purchases from UTKALIKA, a Government owned enterprise which sells gift items related to the state's culture and tradition. Then from a nearby shop bought a few snack items including my favorite "Cuttuck Mixture" and "Badam Pakoda (Spicy peanut fritters)", which tastes far better compared to their counterpart Indian groceries in US.

My next stop was a store nextdoor selling cooking utentils and sundry items. Buyers clustered around it with masks perfectly covering their chins, barely a feet from each other. From a safe distance I shouted at top of my voice asking for the price of a Tea Kettle - "E KETTLE RA DAAM KETE (What's the price of the Kettle) ? He could not understand my pronunciation of "Kettle" and after me repeating the word couple more times he could finally make out - "OH KETILEE" (Oh, you need a Kettle) ? KETILEE vs Kettle, the meaning was lost in pronunciation. Didn't stick around too long in the Market Building as I thought it's prudent to stay away as much as possible from public gatherings during this pandemic period.

HAR EK MAAL (Street vendors) sellers come often to our locality selling their products, from trinkets to cloths and utensils. They come on bicycles and motorbikes. Over the years they have improvised. One I saw this morning had a recorded voice playing time and again in high decibel - DEKCHI 200 TANKA (Container 200 Rupees), KAREI 250 TANKA (Frying pan 250 Rupees), DANKI 100 TANKA (Spatula 100 Rupees). A few minutes later came another guy on a nondescript bicycle shouting at top of his voice "DABA TINA BIKRI KARIBE (Wanna sale Containers, Tins)". His dusty bicycle with a hanging, perforated leather seat, its two wheels with multiple patches on the tyres barely able to hold enough air, the tube almost touching the ground.

I have an account at the local State Bank of India from 18th Century. This Thursday when I visited the Bank, it was conspicuously less crowded. Then I realized that Thursday is the day of MAA LAXMI, Hindu Goddess of wealth - so a monetary transaction is best avoided on that day, lest one wants to attract the wrath of the Goddess which will leave you in penury. I was glad that I was there on a Thursday facing less crowd, especially during this pandemic time.

At Kalpana Square right in front of the Fire Brigade office there is a big bill board proclaiming NUAKHAI BHET BHAT (Meet and greet on the occasion of Nuakhai). Nuakhai is a major festival of Western Odisha is now conspicuously celebrated in Bhubaneswar, a place not native to this festival. At several places I haven't failed to notice the prevalent Sambalpuri dialect, popularly spoken in Western part of Odisha. 

It says one thing - Bhubaneswar is getting more and more cosmopolitan. During my growing up days Nuakhai was unheard of in the capital city of Odisha. Now big billboards in Bhubaneswar announce its arrival along the arrival of immigrants. The migrants to the state capital are not just limited to folks from other parts of Odisha. There is a sizable Bihari population, vindicated by the visible celebration of "CHHAT PUJA" in Bhubaneswar.

On the other side at the same location in Kalpana Chhaka there is another billboard advertising an Odia movie PHULEI GHARANI (Attention seeking wife). Every wife is attention seeking. It is enacted in everyone's home. One doesn't have to visit a movie theater to see its reincarnation. More later...

Day XVII and XVIII in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2021

 Still stuck to my promise of not eating any Pizza, KFC, burger or ice cream during my stay in India. Here I prefer Piazi (Onion fritters) to Pizza, BARA to Burger, Chicken Egg Roll to KFC, RASAGOLA to Ice cream and CHHENA PODA to Cake or Pastry. Some one suggested me to visit a Burger King located a few miles from here. I have half a dozen Burger Kings within couple of miles of radius from where I live in the United States. So here I would prefer a freshly fried BARA right in front of my eyes which cost me 3 cents a piece to a $3 Sandwich at local Burger King. I believe - Eat BARA in Bhubaneswar, eat Burger in Boston. Be Roman in Rome.

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 commoners here before I return back to the "Jesus Land".

The other day at a local store I overheard a guy speaking on cellphone twitching his 2 inch long ear hair and chewing full Pakhala Khia Hindi (Hindi spoken by Odias after eating a stomach full of water soaked rice, a staple food of the state) :

"MUJHE BAHUT JOR SE JHAADA MAAD RAHA THA. AB MEIN USKO CHAAP DIYA - "I got enormous urge to use the loo, but force controlled it". It took me back on a time machine to one related incident a few years ago.

It was during one of my trips years ago shortly after I arrived in Bhubaneswar, I was pulled into visiting Puri Jagannath Temple on a special occasion. I wasn't very keen on going as I was still tired after a long trip from the otherwise of the world and my body clock hasn't adjusted to the new time zone. After a lot of persuasion I reluctantly agreed.

Severely jet lagged and constipated, I had ate a late lunch of MAHAPRASAD (The great offering) inside the Jagannath temple. The meal was a high fiber diet  consisting of concentrated DAALI (lentil), BESARA & MAHURA (Temple curry of variety of mixed veggies) and SAAGA (Leafy greens) - all fiber rich food.

It was late afternoon when we drove back home. My constipated stomach started gurgling as the high fibre content had its effect, now ready to burst itself out like the Hirakud Dam which can't hold any longer after a heavy monsoon downpour. The floodgates were ready to open any moment but I was confident that with about 20 miles or so to go, I can hold on.

Soon I discovered that I was at wrong place at wrong time. Wrong place - every minute countdown to those twenty miles seemed eternal, each miles passing looked like an hour. If Einstein ever went through this he could have replaced his simple explanation of his Theory of  Relativity by - "Time stops when the urge to shit doesn't stop".

Wrong time - My watch procalimed it was 4.30 PM in afternoon, that would be early morning in America. My body clock not yet used to Indian time was still US mode and hardly helped me by adding fuel to food, further triggering the bowel movement which was in no mood to relent.

I instructed the driver of the vehicle to stop at a relatively secluded spot, grabbed his Red GAMUCHA (loin cloth) and ran behind one of the bushes. I ran so fast that I could have beaten Ussain Bolt to a seconds behind me. As a sqatted, I found couple of mosquitoes sitting happily on my particular body part where I dare not slap. 

The Chinese philosopher's saying - "When a Mosquito seats on your balls then you consider peace as an option". It also reminded me of my teenage days when I was hit by a cricket ball down under. So rather than swatting them away or clapping them to death, I let the mosquitoes feast on my private part in public. I suddenly discovered myself as the most tolerant person on earth.

Meanwhile I attracted the attention of a stray dog sleeping nearby who gaped at me with a look filled with surprise and suspicion, giving me a scare for a moment. The mongrel now stood up, extending the legs looked up and yawned "Yeeeeeooooo", shook itself of dirt, scratched it's ears using its hind legs. 

Thankfully he decided not to chase me. He turned in a different direction and strolled away. Otherwise, what a sight it would have been !!! Me running through the paddy fields, chased by the canine, with the GAMUCHA slowly slipping away from my waist. If caught on video, it would gone viral with a million pus hit in no time.

Moments later I was back in the car, a much relieved and relaxed person after relieving myself. Nature's call can take you back to nature - exposing our helplessness. How helpless are we in front of nature. An innocuous meal of simple, vegetarian temple food almost made me shit in my pants. Nature is the world's best leveller. More later...

Day XV and XVI in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2021

 This is some real bullshit. With the increasing use of tractors for tilling lands for cultivation, oxens aren't needed anymore. As sometimes an unwanted female child is known to be left at God's mercy on river Ganga GHAT (bank of the river), similar fate awaits the cow's male offsprings these days. Many leave their young, male calves at mercy of Lord Shiva to take care of his BAHANA (rider) Bulls. The old town, known as the city of Saivite temples bear the brunt of these stray bulls. The area where I live has a Lord Shiva temple every other kilometer, hence a good number of bulls and bullshit peddled 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. You can see them non chalantly ruminating as vehicles pass by. They graze and feast around trash near dumpsters. On occasions they're known to goad unsuspecting bystanders and their parked vehicles. They are also the cause of many traffic accidents, especially when they get excited at the sight of nubile cows and chase them around, inspecting to impregnate them. 

There are stacks of old newspapers lying in our house. Because of the Covid pandemic the prospective buyers who come looking for the newspapers yelling at top of their voice "KAGAZA, KAGAZA" (Paper, Paper) aren't seen anymore. We want to sell them off or send them out for recycling ♻️. But so far no success.

A different type of paper, the famous Paper Masala Dosa of Venus Inn located in Bapuji Nagar isn't what it once used to be. It's no more thin and crispy, I ended up chewing it like a Tandoori Roti. The Sambar and Chutney no longer taste the same. Recommended by someone I bought Dosa from a road side kiosk which tasted far better, not to mention a whole lot cheaper. It's not just the old restaurants with reputation like Venus Inn have lost their mojo. Most of the newly opened stores belong to the category of "well begun is half done". No sooner they become popular and their popularity gets amplified by coverage on social media than they start taking their customers for granted and their quality goes for a toss.

Already two weeks past my stay, I have managed to meet and interact with folks from different folds of life. I don't let an opportunity pass to have a chit with  local folks from all echelons of the society to get a hang of the political vive of the millieu. Here are my 5 take aways based on conversations and subsequent analysis.

1. Naveen Patnaik led BJD will stay in power in the state until the party supremo dies. I hardly found anyone who dislikes the man. His social policies work like magic in a state where the majority of the population are known to have low aspiration and are ledback in nature (the usual disclaimers apply).

2. BJP in Odisha is equally inept and corrupt. It has no other option but to wait for its turn to be at the helm of affairs of the state. There is not a single leader from the national party to match the stature of Naveen Patnaik in the state. Their two high profile central ministers from Odisha have zero political base. Forget getting elected to Assembly or Lok Sabha (where Lok or people vote their representatives), these two gentlemen aren't even capable of winning a Municipality election where real people vote.

3. Most Odias supporting BJP are upper caste Hindus and from middle class. They are invariably government servants, businessmen and retirees with a stable source of income. It also includes some hypocrites of highest order who earlier benefited from the largesse of the previous corrupt Congress regimes and now turned into BJP supporters. They are examples of what we call in Odia the perfect CHHATA (Umbrella) party, avid practitioners of the principle of "BARSHA JUADE CHHATA SIADE (Wherever is the direction of the rain, so goes the Umbrella). It is attributed to the fair weather folks. Not all supporters are "Chhata party" type. I encountered some MUNDA (Bull headed) supporters with Cowdung stuffed inside their head. If Sri Modi says shoot your mother, they will shoot without blinking their eyes. I wasn't surprised, having encountered a bunch of them on social media.

4. Forget the minorities, the lower caste still looks at BJP with suspicion. Invariably all the Autorickshaw, OLA - UBERAY (as Uber is pronounced here) drivers I have interacted aren't happy with the high gas (Petrol/Diesel) price and inflation. The common man who feels the pinch squarely blames the BJP led Central Government for that.

5. Modi and BJP are now synonymous as the Nationalist party is no more a cadre based party. It may well be chistened  - Modi Janata Party. Like it or not, Modi (BJP towed to his tail) will continue winning most if not all future elections including 2024 Lok Sabha. Though divisive his carefully crafted cult status has grown in stature a la Indira Gandhi in the 1970s. There is simmering discontent at the Modi's government, but there is no one to capitalize on it. It took a national leader like JP (Jayprakash Narayan) to oust Indira, but I don't see any modern day JP in sight to replicate the same. It's the hard truth.

My father, who like me though anti-Congress through out his life with an independent mindset has of late become a supporter of BJP, although he is far from being Bhakt (devotee) type. When I queried him if he sees any tangible results on the ground he couldn't list any. Yet he supports the party as he doesn't see any future in Congress and any other party. I am sure he is not alone. More later...

Day XIII and XIV in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2021

 More than half way through my India trip I have realized that time flies faster than the speed of light. A vacation week passes much faster than a work week, vindicating "The Theory of Relativity". Explaining his famous theory Albert Einstein said "time flies slowly when you listen to a boring lecture, but it flies fast when you talk to a pretty girl". He stands vindicated.

In the initial days of the trip I didn't mind about spending money. Never bargained while buying from street vendors, gave them hefty tips to their ecstacy and in return got appreciations in form of bewildered looks to subtle chickles. But now I am starting to think - Am I spending more ? Do I pay more for the price of the commodity ? Can I get a cheaper bargain somewhere else ? May be from a visitor mindset I am slowly graduating to the mind of local resident.

During my school and college days I was a voracious reader of Odia and English books, varieties of newspapers and magazines. One of them was the SATHI (Friend) pocket series books - a series of Odia novels containing sagas of thrill and mystery, many of them detective stories. As the name indicated, the books were pocket friendly, thin and tiny enough to fit into one's pockets.

Remembered reading one such pocket series book - PATIA JANGALA RA SAAPA (The snake of the Patia forest). Patia on the outskirts of the capital city of Odisha was a rocky, red soil hamlet filled with rocks and ant hills notorious for harboring venomous snakes. Now the location has turned into a jungle of another kind - concrete jungle. The snakes living there now belong to a different species in form of real estate sharks of dubious characters. A friend just told me if you see a snake and a real estate guy in Patia, kill the real estate guy. Because the snake may leave you alone, but the real estate agent is guaranteed to ruin you. Anyway I hate concrete jungles and visit that part of the city only when it's absolutely needed.

Today I happened to be in Patia, located diametrically opposite to where I live. A long drive, not distance wise but due to the time taken to maneuver extremely unruly traffic. There is no traffic rule here in Bhubaneswar, every one from pedestrian to those driving vehicles, from bovine to stray dogs - each one makes his or her own rule. Yet every nook and corner you can see hoardings proudly proclaiming the state capital as a Smart city. Strings of multicolor underwears, Salwars (women's costume), Lungis (loincloth worn by many in India) adore the skylines of tall apartment buildings, fluttering in the wind as they dry out.

In the Webster's dictionary smart means "clever, witty, brainy" etc. But in local Bhubaneswar parlance a guy on a bike wearing shining shoes and chasing girls in the process of acquiring a girlfriend is considered a smart guy. The name "Smart city" tag given to Bhubaneswar speaks for itself.

Home sweet home - Our home is full of sweets, some bought by me and rest gifted by good samaritans, friends and relatives. My sweet blood attracts the Mosquitoes who apparently love sucking it using their straw like tentacles. Covid is not the only disease around here, as Dengue fever caused by mosquito bite is lurking in nook and corner of each home. These are highly resilient creatures. If they can survive Alaska and Minnesota, insecticides like DDT etc, they can survive anything.

I have been told to stay away from this murmuring species, but in spite of best efforts they still manage to feast on my blood sweetened by all these sugary stuff I am eating. No sooner a mosquito bites me than I get red boils and itching. Not that I hadn't been bitten by mosquitos before, but by staying away from them for quarter of a century I have lost my immunity from insect bite. By the time I start getting some immunity, my trip will be over. More later...

Day XI and XII in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2021

 In spite of all the rain our locality in Bhubaneswar wasn't impacted by flooding. The basic Law of Physics still holds good - Water always looks to the lowest level of elevation and flows towards it. Luckily our home and the surrounding streets are located on a higher elevation and water logging is not an issue.

Now that rain is gone, it feels muggy as the air is thick with humidity which can make you feel like a melting man if you stand outside for 5 minutes in the afternoon. After a break of couple of days I had to crank on the AC to keep me cool and cozy.

There is no concept of making a queue (standing in line) at most places. The other day I was at Nimapada Sweets, a popular sweet store in Bapuji Nagar. Instead of making a line half a dozen or so folks were standing in a cluster, all shouting in unison "ADHA KILE (1/2 Kg) CHHENA PODA, KILE (1 Kg) SANDESH, DASA TA (10 count) RASAGOLA - all trying to outbid each other creating the miasma of a mini fish market.

I waited for my turn standing somewhere in that cluster but it took me nowhere. Neither the customer nor the server or the cashier cared for my etiquette. Soon I realized that I will be in all probability spend the entire day standing at the same spot. After waiting for 5 minutes I spoke up - "ETHI KANA LINE NAHI (Don't we stand in a line here) ? Being Roman in Rome, I wanted to enter wrestle my way to make a purchase if my query was unanswered. Thankfully for me the cashier who all along noticed this said - "ARRE, BABU NKU DEIDE (Hey, take this gentleman's order)". My order was ready.

Last evening I went to the Park right in front of the Arts block of BJB College for a walk with my friend Amit. We drove  past D-33, BJP flats and took a nostalgic peek at it. D-33 is that middle floor 3 bedroom quarters where we lived. (In local lingo government provided houses are called quarters here where the employees are quartered. Larger the quarter, bigger is the status of the person). I lived in that quarter for 15 years of the prime time of my childhood and youth. Took a nostalgic peek as I passed by it.

While making rounds inside the park I saw a young girl standing under lights posing as a model and her friend was shooting her on cell phone camera. The photo session continued for a while, with the model-in-motion bending left and right with hand on her hips, catwalking back and forth. It was walk in the park for her. When we passed by her again I could hear her complaining - "EITA BHALA HEINI. AU THARE NE (This shot wasn't good, do a retake". 

Saw a bunch of middle age ladies huffing and puffing their way on the narrow trail,  their chit chat indicated all talking and none listening, probably inspired by the discussion panels on local TV Channels where everybody talks but no one bothers to listen. I could overhear them talking about the necessity of staying fit to avoid any future ailments and subsequent dependency on their children. At least one of them was doing character assassination of her mother-in-law and maid - MO SASHU KA MUNDA KHARAP HEI JAICHI. MAID RA DUI DINA HELA DEKHA DARSHANA NAHI (My mother-in-law has gone crazy. The house maid hasn't turned for duty for last couple of days). Interestingly 80% of those walking in the park were females. Glad to see the fitness trend is going up amongst the fairer sex.

Oberhearing conversation can be interesting. Another time I heard a girl on phone speaking in a soft but audible voice following the recent fad of speaking in a hydrid of Odia, Hindi and English - "TU JANICHU NA, MO BOYFRIEND TA EBE BEWAFA HEI JAICHI (You know, my boyfriend has turned untrustworthy recently)". Good luck young lady on your "Bewafa Boyfriend" and thanks for enriching the Odia language by adding some news words to it. More later....

Day IX and X in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2021

 In spite of all the rain and flooding there was hardly any power cut, at least in our locality in Bhubaneswar. During last couple of days the state capital and its vicinity got enough rain to graduate from deficit to surplus. The rain has grounded the dust in air, swiping off the dirt from the foliage like wiper blades of a car. The air looks clean and crispy. The buildings are looking wet but brighter in sunshine peeping through the cloud. No one minds this respite from incessant rains.

Monsoon season is very unique to India during which it gets bulk of its annual rainfall. It is accompanied by the reversal of wind direction. Arriving just after a long, torturous hot summer it quenches the thirst of a parched earth. Everyone eagerly waits for its arrival - from the farmers to poets, from villagers to city dwellers, from kids to seniors. Farmers to start their KHARIF (summer) Crop, the city dwellers for a reprieve from heat and poets to add one more ode to myriads of poems dedicated to the monsoon.

In West where winters are wet, cloudy depicting morbid gloom, the arrival of sunshine is celebrated. In contrast, in India the dark clouds with thunderclap followed by torrential rains is a welcome phenomena. Birds start singing, Bards sing legendary songs in the praise of the arrival of the monsoon, Peacocks spread their colorful tails to dance to the tune of rains. Dark clouds as silver lines are welcomed in India over sunshine which is associated with heat and dust. It brings joy and respite from the never ending Indian summer. 

People looks at the sky to savor this rare occasion of the first monsoon rains marking arrival of rainy season. Poets are motivated to let their pen capture the moment. Many love songs are written over the advent of monsoon - from the romance of Radha and Krishna, to songs of Bollywood depicting drenched actors and actresses eager to shower in the first shower of the season for the viewer's delight. Legendary poet and dramatist Kalidasa several centuries ago wrote an eulogy to cloud in his MEGHADOOTAM (Cloud Messenger) to carry the message from the lover to the beloved.

The celebration is not just limited to the reel world. In real world people come out to play, enjoy sitting on swings propelled by cool, gusty winds accompanying the rain, singing songs of delight to welcome the arrival of Monsoon. Swings play an important part in the Odis festival RAJA exactly timed around the arrival of the monsoon season. Many love to get drenched, as they believe that getting soaked in the first rains of the season cures skin infections. 

Monsoon is rarely an equalizer, far from being uniform. It could be deficit at one place but at the same time causing waterlogging in the cities and floods elsewhere. Vagaries of monsoon is neither new, nor unheard of. Its inherent tendency is bountiful one year, scanty the next. Invariably every year, the monsoon arrives in the month of June and takes leave in early October, with a highly inequitable distribution of rainfall. This Odia proverb aptly depicts  the vagaries of monsoon :

JALA BAHULE SRUSTI NAASA,
JALA BIHUNE SRUSTI NAASA, meaning

"Lack of water causes catastrophe,
 Excess of water causes catastrophe."

Went out in the evening to run some errands. At entrance of the store a GUPCHUP (Golgappa or Panipuri) 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 from 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, a pariah dog lurking around, waiting for the right opportunity started licking them, polishing off whatever he could in the narrow window of the timeframe he had before being chased away.

He was soon to be vindicated. The irritated vendor shooed him away with "HEY JA JA (Go away), as the hapless mongrel fled with tail well tucked behind hind legs. The showers left puddles of water all over. Feeling secured and safe from a distance of 20 feet, the dogs started slurping from one of the puddles to quench their thirst post feasting on the spicy GUPCHUPs.

Talking of puddles, I was reminded of this incident few years back. One evening that summer after a bout of fresh monsoon rain Tanujaa (my wife), Sidhant (my son) and I were waiting on the street right next to our house for our Uber ride. 3 guys on a motorcycle started oggling at Tanujaa, their heads turned in unison by 90 degrees towards her, like they hadn't seen a girl before. All of sudden their pillion stumbled a pothole filled with ankle deep water. Distracted, one of them fell on the muddy poodle, while the other two got busy extricating their buddy from the mess. We had a hearty laugh at the fallen hero's expense. Monsoon has its share of fun and joy. More later....

Day VII and VIII in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2021

 The cyclonic storm lashed out all morning. It led us to reschedule this evening's outing with friends. It's not just the rain which forced the cancelation, rather the thought of driving over mini swimming pools on pothole ridden roads on a dark, stormy night didn't sound exciting to most. Bhubaneswar received an estimated 8 inches of rain within last 24 hours, turning the city into a flotilla.

Rain has certainly cooled down the temperature - enough for me not to turn on the AC during last 24 hours. In fact, for the first time during my current stay I needed to pull on a thin blanket on top of me in the middle of night to keep myself warm and fuzzy.

There was a brief pause around 8 AM as lashing rains gave away to a steady drizzle. I took out my umbrella, walked towards a local tea stall who also serves BARA (Vada) and GHUGUNI (Cheakpea curry) located barely 100 feet from our house. There was a bit of crowd in front of his stall, customers eager to savor a breakfast of Bara and Ghuguni, a perfect start to a cool, rainy day. 

After taking my order Bulu, the shopkeeper-cum-chef told me "AGYAN TIKE DERI HABA (there might be a little delay in service) as he carefully pushed around the wooden planks inside the burning clay oven to turn on the heat and turned over about couple of dozens of Baras slow fried on a huge, dark pan. The wood fueled Bara cooked on clay oven has a unique taste but taken with Ghuguni can fuel a lot of gas inside the stomach. Like food chain, we have a fuel chain too. We need fuel to cook and cooked food needs fuel to burn it inside the body.

TIKE DERI HABA (A little delay) - "little" delay can be anything between 5 to more than 30 minutes, little being a relative term here. The Bara was getting fried on medium flame (from my own experience as an amateur chef I can vouch that it's better to fry in medium to low flame for the best results, so that both surface and the interior are fried uniformly). Many on their way to work stop by at this stall for an express breakfast consisting of half a dozen Bara soaked in Ghuguni washed down with hot tea. No wonder many Odias suffer from chronic gastric issues (Bara - Ghuguni combo though tasty is notoriously gas producing).

A guy parked his Scooty and walked in to deliver his breaking news - a 3 storeyed building shrank by 3 feet in Dumduma area due to ongoing deluge. As Bulu the Chef moved around the Baras swirling and wobbling on the surface of boiling oil using his jumbo sized spatula, he uttered back excited - "SALA SABU GAON RU UTHI ASI KAHIBE AME BHONSARA RE RAHIBU. " - All those brothers of the sisters I have seduced (Sala means wife's brother, but in local lingo its usage suggests the speaker is the seducer of sister of whom so ever concerned) have come out of their villages with the desire to live in Bhubaneswar. "RAJADHANI PANI, TANKU ANUCHI TANI - the water of capital city is luring them into it").

Bulu continued further. These folks who are used to live in squalors of their native villages have no civic sense. They come and live in GOLAM NAGARI (Slave city, referred to the rapidly developing portion of the city by those natives who pride themselves as the original city-gens), live like POKA, JOKA (insects and leeaches) in illegally constructed buildings. SALE SABU CHIPI HEI MARANTU (Let those whose sisters I seduce get trampled in the collapsed building and perish).

The tea and snack stall owner Bulu made his point clear. He prides being the true blue blooded boy of Bhubaneswar, born in Kapileswar, one of the native villages constituting old town, the real Bhonsara. Like all original inhabitants he resents the presence of outsiders encroaching like cockroaches into his domain, turning Bhubaneswar into a city of immigrants. He is sad but feels helpless - for least he can do to change the course other than whine about it.

Bara was slowly turning a light brown from the spotless white dough made out of soaked grams (lentils). It will take a few more minutes before getting ready. So I thought of taking a walk to the SUKHMESWARA temple only couple of hundred feet away, one of several Saivite temples scattered around our locality. The rain mixed wind was blowing hard and fast enough to turn my tiny umbrella upside down if I am not careful enough. I waded through the maroon colored floodwater adorning the marooned road, carefully avoiding the bullshit all around. I saw a lot of plastics (called POLITHINI polythene here) and Styrofoam plates floating carried by fast moving stream into the drain. No wonder our drains get clogged too fast, too soon.

There were only two of us inside the temple which usually gets pretty busy even early on a Monday morning. The priest was mumbling his prayers in Sanskrit. The Siva Linga of the Lord was submerged in water. The head of the snake coiled around the idol was barely visible. I offered my prayers, left a few coins for the priest and started my way back to pick up my takeout order of Bara and Ghuguni. A drenched big gray bull dumped a fresh mound of shit only a few feet away from me. The bullshit quickly swept away melting away in the flowing stream, akin to the bullshit which I peddle on Facebook fades into oblivion.

I walked back to pick up my carry out order (the carry out or "to go" order is called PARSALA here, the way parcel is spoken in Onglish, Odia accented English). My order of eight pieces of hot Bara and Ghuguni costing me Rs.35 (50 cents) was ready for pickup. A family breakfast for 50 cents, fresh out of wooden clay oven - can't beat it. As he handed me over the packet Bulu said - "BHUBANESWAR RE AGYA AU RAHI HABANI - Bhubaneswar has become unlivable for us. It was deja vu for me. He is not the only one who complains about Bhubaneswar, but hardly any one leaves the city.

While walking back home and struggling to keep my umbrella straight, I could feel that one half of me is drenched while the other half is still dry - one feet in water and the other feet on drier ground. It fully describes my current state of affairs - I have one feet on my motherland India and the other feet on my adopted land of the United States. The tea stall owner Bulu has no such dilemma. More later..

Day V and VI in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2021

 Today morning I woke up to the sound of pouring monsoon rain. This year my city Columbus, Georgia is getting plenty of rain, almost every 2-3 days. No sooner I arrived in Bhubaneswar than it's been raining pretty regularly - much to the chagrin of city dwellers who hate mud on the road, but to the delight of many for alleviating the ongoing draught. Rain seems to be following me everywhere.

Walked into our neighborhood stall this morning to buy some milk packets. The owner known to me for 3 decades was excited to see me, asking me a standard question I get during my India visits, "When did you come and how long you will be here". He continued further - "BAIDENAY TA AGYAN BHARATA PAI JAMA BHALA NUHE. TRAWMPAW BHALA THILA. Pakistan KU SABAD KARI DEITHILA. NA KANA KAHUCHANTI (Biden is not at all good for India. Trump was good for India who taught Pakistan a lesson. What do you say ?) soliciting my opinion. I responded "APANA TA SABU JANICHANTI. MU ADHIKA KANA KAHIBI" (You are Mr. Know All. What more can I say) ? From his body language I could decipher that he took my response as a huge compliment. Foreign policy experts mushroom in every tea stall and betel shop kiosk, often metamorphosing into domain of foreign policy expertise on social media.

The topic of US didn't end there. I went to the bank where I have my NRI Account to withdraw some money. No sooner I handed over my check to the girl at the counter than she looked up and decided to have a tete-a-tete with me. She asked me the often asked question - "APANA US RE KOUTHI ACHHANTI, KETE DINA SETHI RAHILENI (Where you stay in US and how long you have been staying there). Then she followed - "APANA KARA KI BHAGYA, AMERIKKA RE ACHHANI" (You are so fortunate to live in America).

I replied - "Living in America has its own challenges and share of pros and cons. DURA PAHADA SUNDARA (Faraway hill looks beautiful, which means grass is greener on the other side of the fence). Came back her Googly - "I know of many coming to Amerikka. But why no one is coming back for good ? I got so and so cousin in California, so and so Mausa in Florida, so and so Piusa in New Jersey. No one even remotely contemplates of returning back to India".

"Well", I replied. That's a pretty good question. She looked flattered. I went on - "America is like CHAKRABYUHA (the legendary impregnable battle formation employed by Commander-in-Chief Drona of Kaurava Army in MAHABHARAT). It is much easier to get into America, but like the ill fated warrior Abhimanyu no one has a clue how to get out". It seems she liked my answer, instantly bursting into laughter as she handed me over the bills (called notes here).

Before walking out of the door I took a liberal dosage of the hand sanitizer handed over to me by the bank guard who gracefully opened the door for me. I responded by saying "thanks". He gave me a bewildered look, both surprised and pleased at my thankful gesture. I asked him for a little more sanitizer to which he gleefully acquiesced by bending and dumping a sizable lump of the sticky suff on my hand. I rubbed both my hands with on my way out, leaving no stones unturned in taking Covid precautions.

Adulations or brickbats towards USA varies but the constant fascination (obsession for some) towards America remains the same. It is firmly entrenched in the psyche of Indian middle class. Friday (Ganesh Puja) and Saturday (Nua Khai) being holidays here, many ascribe this weekend as "long weekend" - the way Americans refer to their long weekends. Not that India doesn't have its share of long weekends, but never before heard the usage of adjective "long" for an extended weekend. Long weekend may be the latest invasion of American slang here, long after the commonly used US imports "cool", "bro" etc.

I visited the chain of fruit stores on the left side of the road running from Raj Mahal Chhaka. Magoes are still available and tastes good, though not great like we get at the peak of summer. The Indian varieties the "King of Fruits" are succulent, have less fiber and unique aroma compared to its counterparts from Mexico and Caribbean available in USA. Bought some mangoes, Banana (Desi or Country variety), Aata (custard apples), Guavas, Sapotas (great sources of Vitamins and fiber) overlooking other fruits like Apples, Pears, Grapes, Kiwifruits, Oranges, Pistachios which I get plentiful in USA.

There were more animals than humans on the street when I was returning home minutes past midnight. Apart from a few vehicles in the dark carefully navigating through the freely roaming mongrels wondering on road, only human beings I saw were in the form uniformed cops chatting clustered around their PCR Vans. Closer to home on the local road as the car carrying me slowed down to jump the bump on the way, a cat from nowhere crossed over right in front of us melting into the bushes. It was a long day for me and long night for the street animals and police. More later...

Day IV and V in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2021

 Jai Jagannath (Hail Lord Jagannath). After a long time I got the opportunity to eat AVADA (Temple food) procured from Jagannath temple of Puri, followed by the dessert RASABALI a local speciality. It was pure bliss.

No vegetable of foreign origin is ever used in Avada, a conservative tradition enforced since centuries. For example - potato, tomato, cabbage, cauliflower, chilli pepper🌶, papaya which are extensively cultivated in India now aren't originally from India and were introduced by the Europeans. Native vegetables like Mula (Radish), Saaga (locally grown leafy greens), Desi Alu (yam), Potala (pointed gourd), Kankada (spiny gourd), coconut etc are used extensively to cook several delicacies like Besara, Mahura, Saaga, Potala Rasa and so on. These veggies along with Dal (lentils) are all cooked on earthen pot over burning wood which brings out its unique taste and flavor - especially from the crushed MARICHA (Black Pepper). A fitting finale to a meal of Avada is Rabidi, Chhena Payas or Rasabali - all different variants of sweetened skim milk and cheese.

After moving to United States I have developed this bad habit of drinking chilled or iced water. Here water at room temperature is served by default unless specifically asked for. Water at room temperature tastes so bland.

While traveling I have noticed wide usage of Google navigation to locate the destination. This morning the guy who drove me suddenly stopped the vehicle at the corner of the road, asking me - "TIKE NAVIGASANA TA MARI DIANTU (Please punch in the navigation). He was asking me to key in the destination address for him on the Google map. I entered the destination address and set his phone on navigation mode. It was useful for him. Meandering through the lanes using a mix of my "killing of navigation" (Navigation Mari diantu) and his expertise of skirting potholes, we reached our destination.

Almost a week has gone without me doing any tangible form of exercise. Thanks to my friend Amit Mahapatra we had an one hour evening walk inside the Rajarani temple park not far from where I live. We better call it a night walk as it was quite dark between 7 to 8 PM (sun sets here close to 6 PM). There were hardly anyone there except a few Chemenia (small bats) crisscrossing the temple premises which looked brownish lighted by the street lamps.

After finishing our walk we stepped outside of the park only to be greeted by a huge Bull apparently in heat, amorously baying at top of his voice. He didn't like my friend's Scooty and tried to lift it up using his sharp horns. I shouted "Hey Hey" and frantically clapped standing at a safe distance to shoo it away to no effect. My effort hardly could make any difference. Thankfully a cow standing only few feet away got his attention and he swung his massive frame and began trotting towards her veering through the traffic. We heaved a sigh of relief.

Reminded me of a local JATRA (Dance troupe) playing few years back at KHANDAGIRI titled "SABU CHHAKKA RE SASURA GHARA" - (Screwing at Crossroads). This Bull fits the bill. Screwing at Crossroads he can very well play the main character of that JATRA. More later...

Day III in Bhubaneswar- India trip 2021

 I have observed the prices of many essential commodities, cab and auto fairs have gone up considerably since I was here last time in 2018. Inflation is that kind of ghost I can see but not feel much of the pinch - partly due to the fact that I am not buying any high ticket items and thanks to the 1:73 ratio of Dollar vis a vis Rupee (Indian Currency) has its own advantage.

Today I visited a fish market in our neighborhood where a young man was selling various kinds of fresh, local fishes like Rohi, Mirikali, Bhakura (similar to the Buffalo Carp), Pohola (akin to Smelt fish), Chuna Machha (tiny fishes), fresh water shrimp etc. While the fish salesman was busy de-scaling, cutting the fish into chunks a cute maroon colored kitty sitting close by munched its way through the discarded internal fish organs.

It reminded me of this incident from summer of 2012 when I took my son Sidhant to a local fish market during the morning hours to get him a first hand exposure to an environment he wasn't familiar with. For a 7 year old everything around him seemed confusing and amusing as he continued gaping at his surrounding.

He was intensely watching our fish being cut and cleaned up, until his attention was diverted by a lanky kid of his age who approached us with an extended hand, his tiny palm semi folded. The poor kid was extremely thin and malnourished, covered with dirt from tip to toe, clad in a torn soiled pant.

Sidhant gave him a curious look, as if he is looking at an Alien from outer space. He had earlier seen a homeless guy in America clad in jeans, jackets, wearing Nike shoes, smoking Marlboro, a beer can by their side and standing on the sidewalks near a stop light - often with a Doggie giving curious look around by his side (a pet by the side invariably increases the chance of getting a few bucks from a good samaritan). But what he just saw was far cry from what he saw before. Soon he realized that this little boy is just a kid like him.

My son asked me - "Why the kid is asking for money ? Why don't you give him money" ? No sooner I grabbed whatever I had inside my pocket and handed over to the poor kid than Sidhant repeated again "Why he is asking you for money ?" I said - "Because he is poor". He asked "Why is he poor" ? 

Being seven year old is an interesting stage in life when the kid is old enough to ask questions about stuffs which get his attention. The child at that age is not yet mature enough to understand a lot of things in life, asks incessant questions to quench his thirst of curiosity. I had no simple answer for his simple query.

As I was scratching my head to find an answer for his simple mind to comprehend, his attention was diverted by a cat who was feasting with its eyes closed on the discarded fish bones, gills, tails and scales at a corner. Sidhant asked "Won't the kitty cat's throat get chocked ?" He has seen cats at his friend's house feasting on organic boneless chunks of salmon lest their throat get chocked. It was surprising for him to see a cat gladly munching away fish bones and scales, trying to scavenge some fish flesh.

Sidhant had enough experience for the day. I was glad my fish was cut and ready. It was getting hot and muggy. No sooner the fish seller handed me the plastic pouch, than I rushed towards home.

Today it was raining on and off throughout all afternoon and evening due to a tropical low pressure formed in the Bay of Bengal. A la the hurricane season in USA starts in June and peaks in September, cyclone season in India starts in September and extends into November. Tropical storms and cyclones aren't uncommon at this time of the year in India which acts as catalyst to monsoon. City dwellers are known to complain against too much rain, but prediction of more rain must be music to the ears of the farmers due to a scarcity of monsoon rains this year.

Sun came out for a few minutes during the late afternoon. I went to balcony on our first floor to take a peek outside. A bird was sitting on a mound of sand, picking up insects. A cat started stalking it from behind, a la a tiger on prowl. In Odia there is a saying - "BAGHA NA DEKHILE BIRADI DEKHA" (If you can't see a tiger, watch a cat). The crouching stalking motion of the cat reminded me of crouching tigers I have seen on National Geographic.

Suddenly a stray dog started chasing the cat. In the commotion the bird flew away. The cat jumped to its comfort on top of an adjacent wall with the frustrated dog giving up the chase, gasping for breath.

It is nature's order for big fish to eat the small fish, big animal chases the smaller animal. We humans do the same but under the cloak of civility and hypocrisy. More later...

Day II in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2021

 It started as balmy and muggy, though it felt trifle better as the day progressed because of the cool morning breeze. But the accompanied relief was short lived. The wall mounted AC in my room went poof when I was eying upon a piece of eye catching news on the front page of local daily SAMBADA (The News) - "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). Always a sucker to all kinds of sensational news I was devouring every bit of the it when all of a sudden I could smell something burning and saw white fume wafting from the wall mounted AC. I immediately switched it off. A Mechanic was promptly called.

During the World War II, at the time of relentless Nazi bombing on England, the British Royal Air Force fought bravely against the airstrikes. The German attack was rebuffed, with Luftwaffe incurring major losses without any tangible gains on the ground. The insurmountable reverses by Germany in the famous Battle of Britain between the Summers of 1940 and 1941 forced Hitler to halt Blitzkrieg on Britain and divert his attention to Russia. 

Winston Churchill, then British Prime Minister paid this tribute to RAF (Royal Air Force) - "Never in History of mankind so much was owed by so many to so few". Similarly my tribute to Willis Carrier, an Engineer from New York who invented Air Conditioning - "Never in the History of mankind so much was owed by so many to just one person, the inventor of AC". 

I could feel its absence as my room  started to warm up. By noon the ceiling fan was circulating hot air inside. I tried to get little creative and put a table fan beside me. It helped a bit as the blowing air dried the perspiration and made me feel better yet vindicating the good ole Law of Physics - evaporation causes cooling. Plus the force of air turbulence created by the mini tornado from the clash of air fronts from both the ceiling and table fans kept the mosquitos away.

The relief wasn't far away, not in the form of AC Mechanic, but dark clouds which suddenly churned in from the North Eastern sky, announcing their arrival with silver streaks of lightning and booms of thunder, followed by a heavy downpour. It brought the temperature down, may not by whole lot, but to a manageable level. I adjusted myself to my fait accompli with the Air Conditioning unit until the arrival of the Mechanic. Can't recollect when was the last time I spend an entire day in Summer without AC.

Talking of female Bank Employee and AC - I went to the local "Old Town" branch of the State Bank of India desperate for some cash to supplement the meager Rs.250 lying in my pocket. The few credit cards I got are useless at most places of merchandise as cash transactions still rule the roost in spite of rise in cashless payments. 

Visiting the branch in our neighborhood after 3 years I noticed the entire building is now centrally Air Conditioned. The banking process has been streamlined for better. No more hopping around counters to withdraw money. When we see a person after a few years we can judge the change in appearance in that person better than some one who sees that person every day. Similarly this welcome change was noticeable by someone who is visiting after years.

It took me only a few minutes to encash my check. The young lady cashier at the counter didn't even bother to look up as she looked at my check, clicking away the computer keys with her eyes going back and forth between my check and the screen. Still looking at the screen she pushed the check back to me - "PACHHARE SIGN KATANTU (Please sign on the back) which I duly obliged.

She then put a bunch of Rs.500 bills (notes) on a counting machine. It whirred for few seconds before displaying the amount on screen. Then she bundled those bills in a rubber band and handed over to me. "Thank you, young lady. Have a nice day" - was my response to her service. Now she looked up and made an eye contact, suggesting me to count the money before leaving. The other guys ahead of me in the line weren't so lucky as she didn't mention them the same.

The evening thunderstorm cooled down the environment a bit. I ventured outside to run some errands. The fresh rain filled the potholes turning them to muddy cesspools, the vehicles craftily skirting ahead in their bumpy ride. The city was conspicuously less vibrant compared to my last visit 3 years ago. Covid has taken a heavy toll on the phyche of the city-gens, a la a Rasagolla whose syrup has been sucked out of it. The mojo was simply missing. 

The traffic was fewer, less chaotic, the vehicles in parking lots were pleasantly in order as not many were plying around. Only ones who seemed happy were the stray dogs, cows and bulls as they had lesser number of humans to deal with. You can still see a lot of bullshit on road. The city is limping back to normal, though a long road ahead towards a full recovery. Covid does have its share of benefits in disguise. More later...

Day I in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2021

 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 3.30 AM 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. A Bull was placidly chewing cud under a big mound of sand. 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, apparently perceived by them as a more secured, safer location. 

Two mongrels 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 pariah dogs tried to sniff his way near to a man plucking flowers leaning over the nearby fence only to be shooed away - HEY HEY JA JA (Hey, hey, go away). The doggie nonchalantly walked away. 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 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. 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 2021

 The 7 O'Clock morning Vistara flight to Bhubaneswar was jam packed to the brink. I booked in Premium economy class as it didn't cost me a whole lot extra for allowing some extra leg space and extra luggage. In spite of the Air hostess reminding multiple times for the passengers inside the airplane to wear masks properly, dilettantes galored who took a pleasure in disobeying.

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. Apparently he turned out to be a very novice on that front, sounding more of an investor on a hunt for big bucks and ready for the kill, not to nurture the nature. He 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 the flight a man sitting next to me was a garrulous guy full of hot air - both literally and figuratively. 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 the Union territories).

Groggy with jet lag, I dozed off to the humming of the airplane engine for the first half an hour of the flight, my head drooping sideward. The Airhostess politely woke me up - "Veyzz (veg) or Non - Veyzz, Sir ?". "I like non-veg", was my reflex action reply in a semi asleep state. She served the food, suspiciously glancing at me, thinking I passed a double entendre. In India non-Veg means food containing meat, poultry or fish, but colloquially it denotes a person with carnal or amorous instinct. Bawdy jokes are often termed as "Non-veg" jokes. Living outside India for a long time has taken its toll.

While munching food from the tray, I looked outside through the window. The roaring big bird was flying high, whizzing 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 big flock of sheep. 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 under basking in 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, but the city has never left me. Way too many skyrises see from the top have gone over the top. They are becoming a growing environmental concern - gonna to bite this city big time sooner or later.

How contrasting is the worms eye view of the sky from the ground to the bird's eye view from the top. It makes me understand the meaning of the phrase "Down To Earth". When it all 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 39000 feet to ground zero. Airplane teaches us a lesson on 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 on first meet 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 style home cooked mutton curry". The hungry me rolled tongue over my lips as I swallowed a few sips of saliva while he finished talking.

A warm, muggy Bhubaneswar weather welcomed 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. On my way home I savored the sights of the millieu where vehicles yonked their way through in a zigzag maze. After arriving in from 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". Couple of mongrels who are vigilant in our block seeing this new kid in the block in me gaped at me for a while, before melting away chasing each other's tail. 

Dog tired after a journey of 30 hours across 3 continents, I badly needed to shit, shave, shower and sleep. Inside the bathroom I turned the faucet on. 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..", without bothering about any character limit. 

No sooner I finished eating a simple lunch of rice, fish curry, KADALI BHAJA (Plantain fries) and 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 amidst sweet flute like tone of the Koel. It was interspersed with occasional spurts of passing by bikes honking -"keee..kicky.....kicky...keee.." and wafting of street vendors - E KADALI KADALI (Banana, Banana), 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. More later...

Arrival at Delhi - India trip 2021

 At Amsterdam Airport I met a couple of Odia couples who were returning from an European sojourn. They were wearing sweaters as for them 16°C in the middle of the day is cold. Not a bad time to visit the salubrious Europe as a getaway from the stifling heat and humidity of the Indian Summer. I was doin' the exactly opposite, travelling on vacation straight into an Indian summer excited to core. 

Unlike Atlanta aircraft which was packed like sardines, many seats were filled with vacant seats. As the flight started to descend the pilot announced "Welcome to Delhi's IGI Airport. It's 1.00 AM in morning. Hazy, 30 degree Centigrade (80 Fahrenheit) outside." 87 degree at 1 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 exclaimed to his buddy, "OI UTTH, BAIN**OD DILLI A GAYEE  "(Get up, so and so, 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 goes with 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. 

Bai**od" is not such a bad word in Delhi and Punjab (in the Pakistani part of Punjab too). 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 match it was) ! Friends hug each other, A GALE LAG JA OI Bai**od (get a hug, my friend). 

At IGI Airport in Delhi I breezed through the immigration which was a shoo in for me. They looked at a copy of RT-PCR test I did 72 hours prior to boarding my flight.

Delhi airport was bit chaotic due to a rapid Covid antigen test they were doing. All incoming passengers coming via any connecting flight had to go through the test by paying Rs.500. The test process wasn't too bad.

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 Gandhi's picture, followed by a visual of Chivas Regal Scotch. Ironically our Mahatma was never stood for 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.

In the year 1998, no sooner I came out of IGI Airport in the middle of night 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 by the Customs. Such things are long passe.

After checking in for my last leg of flight to Bhubaneswar, I settled down on a chair as the sun brightened 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 the same in the 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. I started chit chatting with folks sitting next to me. Before boarding the Bhubaneswar flight I borrowed a gentleman's phone to place a call to my father. After returned him the phone he had enough confidence in me for a reciprocal request - "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 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 Amsterdam - India trip 2021

 I was excited and a bit nervous upon arriving at Airport. Felt little odd to be inside an Airport and an Airplane after a gap of 3 years. I thought both would be sparsely populated considering it is off season for kids are in School and of course the pandemic factor. But I was wrong. It was a fully packed flight to Amsterdam. My negative test results for Covid was duly verified during the check in and before boarding.

It's interesting to watch flights taking off and landing in quick succession at Hatfield International, Atlanta, known as the busiest Airport in the world. This being the peak hours, every couple of minutes a flight lands or takes off. Flights line up one after another, their lights forming a string of pearls extending into the dusky horizon, as they wait for their turns to land. The Air Traffic control must be doing an amazing job, as error is not an option.

Remembered travelling in our D M School bus in Bhubaneswar when it stopped at Railway level crossings (those days the roads of Bhubaneswar were not clogged, 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.

The flight to Amsterdam filled with good old couples and families with infants & toddlers - some of them cranky and cacophonous. Due to the ongoing pandemic the corridors and toilets were regularly cleaned and sprayed. The toilet doorknobs were cleaned 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. As the plane descended on Schiphol International Airport in Amsterdam, I was reminded of a joke on our ex-President Giani Zail Singh, once travelling on a plane above equator. His secretary flattered him - "Sir, can you see the equator below" ?  Zail Singh responded "Yes. I can see it 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 right in front of his eyes. This flight flying so low, Giani Jail Singh would have seen numerous lice, in form of cars crawling on the interspersed Interstate highways. 

After 8 long hours flying from Hartsfield Atlanta Airport I reached Amsterdam. It was morning local time. As the flight descended piercing through a hazy sky, the lushly meadows started looking greener amidst dykes crisscrossing the labyrinth of water bodies.

Another 8 more hours of flight awaits me before I land at 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. 

Having travelled multiple times through Amsterdam, I am now reminded of an interesting episode during my layover at the Schiphol International Airport. A Virgin Airline flight was about to take off and names of passengers not boarded yet were called. An Air hostess swung by, shouting at 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 peeing through their corner of their eyes. Non of them got up to board the flight. We humans are slaves of inadvertent reflex actions.

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 back days in India, we use to chat about anything and everything under sun, alluded to 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 eKhatti (chit chat) on social media.

In 1979, barely a 10 year old, I accompanied my Uncle to a play in his Alma Mater Vani Bihar under Utkal University. It was a symbolic play which I could barely understand but still remember those lines 

OTA PARI JABA BHAI NAHI NAHI HOIRE,

JIBARE MANISHA OTA 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 into our phones, the same way an Ostrich buries its head inside sand. The 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...