Thanksgiving Day shopping - 2016

Thanksgiving Day in USA is synonymous with Black Friday shopping. It is the harbinger of the holiday season, which culminates on Christmas day.

Traditionally these 4 weeks between the Thanksgiving and Christmas day are the most profitable phase for all retailers. Whatever loss they might accrued in the last 11 months, they end up recouping in the final month of the peak shopping season.

In accounting, red ink shows a loss on the balance sheet, whereas black ink is used to indicates profit. Hence the name - "Black Friday", as the retailers go black or profitable from the Friday following Thanksgiving.

Now a days it should rather be called "Black Thursday", because stores are open on the Thanksgiving Day itself, rather than the Friday, the day following. With plan to buy a luggage on sale in my mind, I arrived 15 minutes before the 3 PM opening at the local J C Penny store in Chicago suburb.

The line was pretty long, it felt longer while standing for quarter of an hour flushed by a windchill factor of subzero temperature. The conspicuous heavy presence of DESIS (a slang used for Persons of Indian origin in US), nearly half of the crowd surprised me.

Soon I found out the reason. They store was offering $10 coupons per person, a major attraction for freebie loving Desis. A four member family can fetch $40 in free coupons. So buy something for $45 and end up paying only $5.

It reminded me of the huge crowd waiting for KANGALA BHOJANA (food offering for the miserables) on Puri BADADANDA (Broadway). The difference - a different kind of jacket and overcoat clad KANGALAs were standing for cheap products as DAANA (gift) with $10 as DAKHINA (additional tip) in a faraway land.

Inside the store there was no space for mustard seeds to reach the ground, meaning so big was the crowd that even the tiny mustard seed couldn't be accomodated (transliterated from the Odia saying SORISA PAKEIBAKU JAGA NATHILA).

My warm comfort inside the store was short lived, as I was trampled on my feet by a Desi bhai's (brother) trolley and a Desi Behen's (sister) stilletolike shoes. I jostled my way towards the luggage section, tip toeing carefully to avoid any further collison.

A bunch of Travellers luggages were on sale at a corner. Sensing some privacy, a Desi bhai was scratching his private parts in public. It didn't escape my prying eyes. When our eyes met, he appears like a fox caught on headlight. He grimaced back, returning a half baked smile while shaking off and straightening his legs.

I grabbed my share of KANGALA BHOJANA. Combine that with my "Made in China" 5 piece luggage set of which only few were left, the final price came to 32 bucks. Not bad, huh. As I kept rolling on with my just acquired luggage set towards the checkout counter, near the kickenware section, I saw another Desi bhai picking his nose, sticking it to the back of a Toaster and looked around with a "Not I" look on his face. I would like to raise a toast to the guy who bought this nasal toaster.

The next stop was Best Buy, the popular electronics store which opened at 5 PM. It wasn't offering any free coupons. No freebies on menu, no freebies seekers - which explains why unlike the previous store there weren't many Desi bros and sis on the line. Us constitute 1% of US population. In freebie lines we constitute 50%. More later...

Happy Thanksgiving - 2016

It's Thanksgivings Day in America. Like every year this day I take the opportunity to thank all my friends on Facebook for taking the pain and patience to go through my posts. As far as possible I try to inform you, amuse you, occasionally irritate you. But I love you all. Your comments and likes keep me going.

It is always okay to agree to disagree on my views as long as it's not done in an utterly disrespectful way. If I am wrong please free to correct me, but not the freedom of my free thinking.

Ever since I started writing 5 years back, never in my wildest of dreams I imagined coming this far. A decent number of compliments started trickling in, many from unknowns who admit (some grudgingly) enjoying my writing. One went on even further "even if you write junk I still make it a point to read it, don't know why. You have converted Bullshit into a form of Art." I took it as an infallible compliment.

People love spicy stuff, be it food or writing. I may give a long speech about the Odia dish SANTULA (a boiled mix veg dish) or DALMA (a dish of boiled Dal and veggies) being healthy. But in reality I cherish a dish of chilli chicken or goat meat curry. I cater to it, dishing out spice laced flavor.

I get my share of brickbats and gauntlets too, for being occasionally blunt and extrovert. Not long ago, someone inboxed me, threatening me of thrashing upon my arrival at Bhubaneswar for a self deprecating joke alluding to Odias. I responded him back, a la some convict asking for last wish - "May I have my wish fulfilled before getting thrashed ?"

"What" ? He sounded confused. I went on - Before beating me up, please spare  me 5 minutes of your time and a can of JADAA TELA (Castor oil). PITHI RE LAGEI KI ASIBI (I will smear a liberal dosage of it on my back) and you can thrash me to your heart's content. He didn't respond any further.

I am not a brave person, but the threat of being beaten by some lumpen element doesn't disturb my night's sleep. Also, not sure why castor oil is prescribed as an antidote for thrashing and its efficacy. Does it relieve the pain from getting beaten ? Does it act as a lubricant making the marauding hands slip off from one's back ? Not sure.

By no means I feel flattered. It fills me with a feeling of immense gratitude and I extend my wholehearted thanks to them, as their threatening hardly hurts me.

Many solicit advise about writing. My answer to them, is there is no magic bullet. It's like any creative skill. If it's inside you, one day it gonna burst out. So just pen your thoughts and let it take its shape.

Some even suggested me to chose writing as a career. It is a great creative outlet and escape from daily drudgery in life, accompanied by a sense of pleasure and fulfillment. I don't have an iota of doubt about it, so plan to keep penning my thoughts till I go over the hills.

But writing as a profession? I don't think it is a pragmatic path to chose at this stage of my life. There is an immense sense of satisfaction, but frankly no money in this line. No offence to their professions, even the PANA and MADA DOKANIs (betel and liquor shop owners), petty DALAALs (brokers) make more money than writers these days. It's the reality of our age.

My current profession does not pay me a whole lot, but pays my bills, with the additional safety net of some post retirement benefits. A la the electrical Main switch of a house, it keeps the power turned on in my home. Everything else falls in place and would stop once the main Switch is switched off. So at most I will keep it as a hobby, with a book or collection of articles sometime down the road.

To those in USA, HAPPY THANKSGIVING turkey gobble day. To those in Odisha, happy early days of CHHHADAKHAI (fish/meat gobble day). Stay safe and enjoy the day with your family and friends.

On top of Sear Tower - Chicago trip 2016

Any visit to Chicago is incomplete without visiting the famous Sears Towers (now Wills Tower) - one of the tallest buildings in the World, standing tall at 108-story, 1451 feet tall in Chicago downtown.

Close to the lake front, the windchill added to the chill factor. We knived our way through the mad rush of evening homebound crowd, all huffing & puffing towards warmer comfort, exhaling white steam swept away in seconds to be engulfed by the incessant lakefront wind meandering through the cold concrete jungle.

The feel of walking couple of blocks within the sea of overcoats and jackets, wading through vehicles was as overwhelming as the feeling of a village simpleton inside the din and bustle of a big city. The ordeal turned to warm relief, as we turned the turnstiles to enter into the Skydeck entrance of Sears Towers.

The credit towards building this building of architectural marvel goes to a person of Indian origin (technically Bangladesh, where he was born in 1929 it was still part of India). He is FAZLUR KHAN, also known as - The Einstein of Architecture.

Born in Dhaka, educated in Calcutta, he migrated to USA to pursue higher studies. He earned two Masters degrees and PHD in Structural Engineering. Soon after, he was considered as the father of Tubular Design which is used in the construction of high rise buildings.

This design led to the foundation of Sears Tower and dominated the future of skyscrapers business. The man has left his indelible mark building cities in the sky, as most of the more than 40 storied buildings in the World since 1960s use his Tubular Design technology.

BANA MALLI BANA RE PHUTI JHADI JAE - goes the saying in Odia, meaning the Jasmine in the jungle blooms and eventually wilts, its fragrance never to be appreciated. Glad Fazlur Khan's fame spread far and wide, as the whole world  benefied from talent picked and nurtured by United States.

On top of the tower it felt like top of the world. Arrays of blinking light resembled Strings of Pearl strewn over a dark velvet carpet. From a birds eye view they all looked like twinkling stars on a sky fallen flat on surface of the earth.

Dwarfed by Sears Tower but distinctly visible, stood Trump Tower a few miles away, built by another man who must be feeling on top of the world. No one cared about taking a look at it, until now.

My 11 year old was quite forthright about his anticipation of taking a peek at the Trump Tower from the top of Sears Towers. A visibly lone, blinking red light on top of his own Tower should remind Donald Trump that it's always lonely on top of the world.

As the late evening crowd dissipiated, we felt lonely at the top and came down to take comfort in melting into the madding crowd on far from us on the cold sidewalks. More later....

Michael Jackson used my loo and media credibility

Since getting elected, President- Elect Trump has called up the prime ministers of Ireland, Australia, Canada, Japan, Italy, Israel, Denmark and the UK in addition to the presidents of Egypt, Russia, Turkey, France, China, Mexico, Argentina, South Korea and Ukraine. Trump has also spoken to German Chancellor Angela Merkel, United Nations Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon and Saudi King Salman bin Abdelaziz Al-Saud.

Though a call hasn't been yet placed to the Prime minister of India, it may come sooner or later. Our entire media will go ecstatic. The time and duration of the call, the degree of temperature in the warmth of Trump's voice, each word of the conversation will be fully analyzed. How many words in Hindi Trump used will be scrutinized to the core.

In case he doesn't, he may be chastised for not using NAMASTE (salutation) before starting the conversation. A comparison will be made to the more benevolent Obama, who was Modi's old friend Barack in first-name calling terms. It reinforces the notion of our media focussing too much on immaterial sound bites over substance.

Couple of decades ago Michael Jackson made a trip to not yet Mumbai Bombay. He visited MATOSHREE, the residence of Bal Thackarey. After giving the Rockstar a rockstar's welcome, the undisputed Don of Bombay and the self proclaimed Tiger who scared the hell out of the city's citizens, cowered like a kitten, posing for a photograph with MJ.

The lord of Bombay even went on boasting, being privileged of Michael Jackson using his loo. More than the Moonwalker's ever gyrating hips, his residues left in Balasaheb's residence mattered the most (Thanks Dipti bhai for this piece of info).

General Musharaf was the major brain behind the execution of Kargil War in 1999. Only a year after, in 2000, he visited India in the capacity of the President of Pakistan for the much media hyped "Agra Summit". Blood stains had not yet dried on the summit of Kargil Hills, as its chief architect was treated no less than a Rock Star.

Our media went ga ga over the menu of "Commando" Musharaf's breakfast, what he ate for lunch, how close he sat with his wife in front of Taj Mahal, how romantic the couple looked.

The media looked more like an ardent fan of the general. It's another matter that rarely major foreign policy decisions are made under media glare. Media's loss of credibility with the masses is neither new, nor unprecedented. Apparently not much has changed after 20 years.

Day of our tryst with CHAKADOLA in Chicago

Yesterday was the day of our tryst with CHAKADOLA (Round Eyeballs) - one of myriad lovable ways of addressing Lord Jagannath by us Odias.

The Lord was well ensconced inside a small house by the large hearted Odias who are a section of the devoted devotees from the Jagannath Society of Odisha Of Greater Chicago.

The icy chilled abode soon warmed up, as the heating cranked up inside the building, followed by the high decibel cranking of hand held GHANTA (lummox cylindrical brass plates hit with stick) and GINI (runt, ear shaped pair of brass, more shoothing to the eardrums).

As the puja juggernaut trudged ahead, the sound transported me back down the memory lanes on a Time Machine, when on the night of DASHAHARA (Dussera) festivals, chariot carrying our village diety would roll on the narrow, dusty track in between the lines of thatched roofs.

It would make intermittent stops in front of each house, as the designated priest would climb the stairs made from MANKADAA PATHARA (black poked sedimentary rock) leading to the main door.

He would swivel his GINI (another conical device made from brass) on his left arm and swirl few drops of water around the BHOGA, the sacred offering of PITHA (rice and lentil based cakes) from the household, uttering OM HING KLING NAIBEDYAM SAMARPAYAMI (oh lord, I offer thee these pious offerings).

Soon the priest will walk down, followed by urchins from the household joining the melee, chasing the chariot. Most of them who invariably wore loose fit outfits, frantically lift their short pants which frequentltryst withy slip off as they chase the chariot amidst the haze of dust lifting up under lantern lights.

The incessant cacophony from the GHANTA continued, as the chariot juggernauts ahead. I queried a fellow village youth, what a particular tune of DHAIN DHAIN DHAIN..DHAIN DHAIN DHAIN means. He told me it rhymes with,

AHE CHAKA DOLA
TAMA BOPA KALE KHAITHILA KI
BAIGANA SANTULA

Transliterated to English...

O Lord Jagannath
In your father's generation,
Did you ever ate grilled Eggplant ?

Now I could mentally tune in to the local context,

AHE CHAKA AKHIA
TAMA BOPA KALE KHAITHILA KI
BAIGANA SANTULA

O Lord Jagannath.
In your father's generation
Did ya ever had Chicago Pizza sessions.

Chicago Trip 2016 - 19th November

It felt really like the real Chicago, as by the evening the temperature dropped down to freezing. The howling wind gusts of 25 miles (40 km) per hour gave me a cold slap, forcing me cover my other cheek with the jacket hood and rush seeking warmer comfort.

It's not unusual for the weather in middle America to plummet in a few hours, as unlike India, there is no Himalayas in North to protect the cold winds blasting its way from Canada. Himalayas stands tall as a barrier from the marauding Siberian chill, while the runt Rocky Mountains in USA hardly help prevention the cold intrusion from North.

It felt so refreshing to see some snow on the ground - not a whole lot, but the sight of snow after 5 years was deeply exhilarating for some one visiting from the Deep South.

The north-west Chicago suburb is as white as snow, with a few Desis (Indians) and Chinese strewn in. Having stayed in the Dixie Land for a long period of time, it was a very different sight with a difference.

Chicago is located in the midst of the Northern Prairies. One can sees miles of its famous grasslands, undulated mounds of meadows interspersed with a few bald trees, some of them still sporting golden fall leaves, glistening under a setting fall sun, like Donald Trump's hair.

The commercial minded Americans have converted these rolling Meadows into Golf courses, a few I saw criss crossing the Chicago suburbs. The accent of the midwesterners is as flat as the flatlands of the Prairies. It is far cry from the Southern drawl I am more conversant with. Didn't hear anybody talking y'all at all.

The English accent varies a lot between the North and South, with the New Yorkers having their own Yankee accent. Same as in Odisha, we have Katati (coastal) accent, Barhampuri Southern accent and Sambalpuri western accent.

When a Minnesotan says "you betcha", it reminds me of "GAMATA EKKA" (Fun only), in Barhampuri Odia. Same as Mein (in Allahabadi Hindi), Hum (Bihari Hindi) vs Apoon Ka Hindi in Mumbai. Accents do vary, with regional punch in every language across the world. More later...

Arrival at Chicago - 2016

A blistery windy night aptly welcomed us to the Windy city of Chicago. Bursts of fresh air swarmed us as we stepped out of the airport. The balmy weather of 65 degrees close to minight in mid November Chicago, felt really unreal - vindicating global warming is for real.

The holiday season flight was full. The Airlines was offering $500 flight vouchers to be used for future flights, if I rebook on another flight leaving next day. I passed this generous offer.

May be one day will come, a la town buses in Bhubaneswar, people will be allowed to stand in flights. At time of landing, take off and turbulence, one can hang on to the plastic covered metal linked chains, hanging like hanging noose stuck to horizontal metal bars at the top. I am sure folks won't mind, especially during the peak holiday seasons in the short duration flights.

I once sat on a stool during an overnight bus service from Rourkela to Bhubaneswar, as all the seats were occupied. In the middle of journey, a junk movie named PAAP KA ANT (End of evil) was playing on the hazy TV screen, as the bus topsy-turvied its way forward. To my drowsy eyes the name looked Italian - PAAPA KA ANTA (Dad's Waist).

As I rubbed my eyes trying to figure out the movie, the driver suddenly slammed the brake. Every one surged forward in sequence, same way a bunch of bricks standing in a line would fall upon one another, if the chain reaction is triggered by kicking the one at the end.

Thankfully I was in the middle. The guy on the front stool who was gaping at the screen with his mouth wide open, savoring a scene from the cinema, was not so lucky. He bore the brunt of  Newton's Law of Motion (a body continues to be in rest or motion unless an external force is applied), as he was flung foward, his phalanx of front teeth hitting the thick metallic rod in front of him.

We Odias are very peaceful Gandhians, with a high sense of tolerance, with a higher forgiving mindset. Rather than being annoyed, he smiled back, exposing his swollen lips and bloody teeth, continuing watching the movie.

May be a day will come, stools will be placed in the middle for a Boing 757 to accomodate the overbooked passengers. More later...