The Indian Head Bob

Ok, I've decided to come out of blogging retirement to address a dire, rapidly growing problem...

I have recently had a few friends visit who have picked up that I've become 'very' Indian -- speaking in Belhi English and using Indian inflection/intonation. Most importantly, they claimed I have picked up the Indian bob (the head movement, not the hair cut).

The Indian bob has been getting a lot of air time lately, Conan's Amex commercial, the Indians in 90 Seconds video (below), and NBC's ill-conceived sitcom 'Outsourced' which I had the recent misfortune of watching.

If 1 billion people used the exact same expression for 'Yes' and 'No,' I doubt the country could function. So clearly, the 'Yes' bob and the 'No' bob are different. Here's an idiot's guide on how to spot it:


1) Watch the Face: 'No' bob expected has a strong negative expression (e.g. squinted brow)

2) Watch the Speed: 'No' bob is the 'Yes' bob's must faster, jittery, ADHD brother

3) Don't forget the context: Did you ask question that should definitely be answered with a 'Yes'? Or 'No'? If so, why did you ask this question? You're gonna get punished with a wrong/ambiguous answer. You deserve it though.

Blogsistential Crisis : Good Bye Repat Journey, Hello New Home

When does a journey become a commute? It's been over a year since I moved to Mumbai. Things continue to strike me here and yet there's an odd feeling of comfort and home. Despite the constant travel and stimulating experiences, life now has a routine.

Simultaneously, I have fallen into crisis over the purpose of this blog. A hundred posts about my life is plenty. Even for me, this sort of narcissism is becoming too bothersome to maintain. Henceforth, I am suspending my blogging campaign after this post.

A quick recap of the blog pre-crisis:

I might consider resuming intermittently if some strikes my fancy. In the meantime, feel free to check out some of other favorite recollections of expat experiences in Mumbai:

* My friend AR's wonderful, richly narrative blog called 'Bagels and Lakhs' about her life after to India from New York and founding a non-profit here
* Another friend, Thane Richard's equally circumspect blog called 'Indians and Cowboys'
* And just for fun, twitter feed I ran across recently called 'Bombay Expat Says Wha.' It's not very active yet, but I'm hoping the writers will find more good material soon.


Thanks for taking the time to read over this past year. I have really appreciated sharing this experience with you all.

Obama Jhama

Jhama, a Hindi word roughly translated as hullabaloo, accurately describes the current state of the Mumbai municipal and security authorities on the eve of President Obama's visit to India.

Obama is renting out the entire Taj Mahal hotel and attending meetings at NCPA and the Oberoi (see schedule). As you might remember, the Taj and Oberoi were two major sites of the gruesome terrorist attacks on Nov 26, 2008. Hence, the city is under extra lockdown during the visit, some measures include -

* The low seas around South Mumbai guarded by US naval ships
* All foreigners residing in hotels in South Bombay interviewed and documented
* Road closures, suspension of liquor permits and general prevention of crowds over the weekend
* Obama's traveling in 'Cadillac One' --an armored, missile proof car

Granted, needing my Indian city to be guarded by American battleships is a little embarrassing. But I think it would be infinitely more embarrassing if something were to happen to during Obama's visit that would make the CWG preparations look like a grand success.

What are people saying?
The visit has drawn mix feelings from the civilian population. For example, the Taj junior staff has been from the hotel for the visit. Some staff are disappointed they are not able to serve the US president, while others are ecstatic about a rare 4-day vacation coinciding with Diwali (India's closest equivalent to Christmas).

How do I feel about it?
As a good American citizen, I should attend panels/public events involving the President, but as an experienced former Indian citizen, I'm fleeing the city in anticipation of the crippling seizure to the city to be dealt by the visit. Watch for a "Goa Redux" post!

Boy Who Cried Tiger!

India, home to ~3,700 tigers in the 1990s, now has only ~1,400. Hence, the Save the Tiger campaign, helped by facebook and twitter has gained signifcant traction in recent times. I figured before I do something more than pressing the 'like' button, I should at least check out the beast in its natural Indian habitat.

Where to go to see a tiger? The full list of tiger sanctuaries in India can help you narrow down to the locations that are best maintained with the highest tiger density. We didn't do that. We just went to the most famous sounding park. Off to Ranthambore!

After a flight to Jaipur and 4 hour car ride from there, we arrive at our "mid-end" hotel. In an area where the nice hotels go for >$800 a night, you can only imagine what our mid-end resort cost.

All that money and effort later, we would have surely seen some tigers, right? Wrong.

After 3 safaris, I gave up and went to the spa at our resort--which incidentally had gorgeous rooms, and delicious, organic, vegetarian, locavore cuisine.

The more interesting story was of my travel partners who persisted and went on a 4th safari. Every single jeep on their route that morning saw a tiger except theirs. Guess, if it's meant to be, it's meant to be.

I should have known that given the celebrity profile of our destination, we had a better shot at spotting below Tiger.

Weekend of Culture in Bombay

Something's dramatically changed with Bombay. Or maybe it's just the monsoon ending. Whereas I typically bemoan the lack of alternative activities in Bombay, this weekend was jam-packed with them. Some quick highlights:

1) Washoku Japanese Food Festival
* Bombay's prestigious Institute of Hotel Management's 4th annual Japanese food festival gets an 'A' for effort but a 'F' for execution.
* In the immortal words of one of my friends, "they even screwed up potato tempura. This requires extraordinary talent."



2) MAMI: Mumbai Film Festival
* 12th annual festival had some fantastic movies on the list from Colombia, Belgium, China, Japan, Italy, Canada etc.
* The event was so poorly managed--the first night's screening led to a stampeded with some severe injuries
* We couldn't even get ourselves registered despite traveling 1.5 hrs for it



3) The Art Conspiracy Music Festival

* Alternative and electic musicians performed at various restaurant venues in Bandra.
* Finale was a thoroughly entertaining dance performance with capoiera, swing, asian break dancing as well as some vaudeville thrown-in.




Oh well, 1 out of 3 ain't bad! And the Mami is on-going so maybe worth another shot.

Goa: Mumbai's Miami

Goa's at a distance where it's not quite Mumbai's Hamptons. Once you're off the plane though, it feels like any other urban proximal get-away.

Given its prominent position in Mumbai culture, it's surprising that my first trip to Goa only recently. Since it's beach resort town, so I'll limit observations to non-beach activities.* Here goes the usual: good, bad and downright bizarre.

1) The Food
Amazing blend of North and South Indian food with a coastal twist, see here.

2) The transport
For a little vacation place, Goa is notoriously difficult to get around. Getting anywhere can take what feels like an eternity on the small, windy roads (albeit the view is not so bad).



3) The Russians
It's easy to mistake Goa Beach for Brighton Beach. More flights from Russia to Goa than any other location. Haven't done the math, but Goa maybe the closest warm beach from southern siberia. Notice the bookshelf at the reading room of our Taj:



*So, um, yeah, I didn't go to the beach in Goa. But there's always next time!

The Good Indian Wife

Despite many advances in India--including quotas for women in the parliament and a female President--women's empowerment here is often sorely lacking.

Case in Point, Prabhu Deva (famous South Indian actor) and his wife: Prabhu Deva is cheating on his wife and refuses to stop.

What's a good Indian wife to do?
No, the answer is not opt for a divorce. The answer is clearly to go on a public hunger strike and burn pictures of the mistress in street protests. Yup, that sounds about right.

Super difficult quiz: which photo below features Prabhu Deva's wife and which one features his mistress?

Not sure if it's the social pressure--how could it be more honorable to be cuckqueaned than divorced? May be the fundamental problem is the legal system.

If divorce (with alimony and child support) were easier, many married women would be much happier. Just like my theory that if suing businesses were easier, customer service would drastically improve in this country.

Common Wealth Games: The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly

Oh the Common Wealth Games. Where to even begin? Let's start with reverse order of the post title cliche with a couple of bonuses.

The Ugly
* Copious debris and waste at games village
* Dog and human feces in athletes rooms at unexpected places

The Bad
* Shoddy construction (e.g. pedestrian bridge collapsing, ceiling tiles falling)
* Lax security standards
* Massive graft (e.g >1000% cost over-run, $80 toilet paper rolls)

The Good
* Despite all the hiccups, the opening ceremony was quite well-received

The Awesome
* India hires 38 langur monkeys to guard the games village and stadia. This is pretty sweet (full article here)

The Stupid
Why would Indian authorities offer to host an event with very little upside if a success but enormous embarrassment if a failure? When was the last time anyone heard of or watched the Common Wealth Games? Doesn't India alone account for some 80% of the Common Wealth's collective population anyway? India's disastrous organization has given the games more publicity than anything else in the games' history.

*****

Separately, apologies for the dearth of posts lately. Many of you know the reasons why. I'll be more in full force by end of this week!

The low-speed chase

When I originally heard this idea at a Bombay comedy show (article by a friend on CNN here), I thought it was an exaggeration.


Setting:
Crowded Bombay Street

Key players:
1) Traffic cop with 'lati' (a baton) --no vehicle, no weapon
2) Rule-breaking driver

Goal:
Cop must apprehend rule-breaking driver

Path:
He's going to run over there and threaten with a baton? What?


If a driver tries to evade the police, they are literally in a low-speed chase after the driver on-foot in Bombay traffic. I didn't believe it until I actually had the good fortune of witnessing such an incident recently. It's amazing to see the Bombay traffic police at work.

Apparently, somehow the anarchy is aiding and abetting the police. Keep-up the "good work" guys!

Football-- Yes, the "American" kind

Few sports are more despised by the Mumbai intelligentsia than "American Fooball." Frequent complaints:

1) Why is it called "football"--they barely even use their feet
2) Why are there so many rules?
3) This is a contact sport? Have you seen rugby?

All of these valid complaints and I can think of an equal number of idiocyncracies in Soccer or Cricket but it hasn't stopped me from enjoying the IPL or the World Cup.

Not sure if it's the unshakable Anglophilia or a new-found Amerophobia, but NFL matches are some of the hardest games to find India:

* Only TV source is some Army network broadcast to the US embassy (no bars, not even a satellite connection will help)
* Internet methods of watching a live game (NFL subscription or Slingbox) are underwhelming given the bandwidth limitations here

It's bad enough that at a 4:15PM kickoff is a 1:45AM kickoff in Bombay. India, why are you conspiring to make the Packers even more difficult to watch?

If anyone knows any practical solutions, please help. Thank you!

Bombay Street Meat: Mohammed Ali Road

I'm about reach actualization as a repat: now that I've already started drinking local--albeit UV filtered--water and last weekend, I decided to try street food in Mumbai.

Where: Mohammed Ali Road (heart of old, Muslim Bombay)
When: Saturday night during Ramadan (or more beautifully rendered, Ramzan, in Urdu)
Wtf: See image below

The fasts of Ramzan days lead to the glorious feasts of the eve. M. Ali Road--'the street that never sleeps'--is particularly alive and buzzing on Ramzan nights. While I often feel like a tourist in Bombay, it was clear today even my resident Mumbaiker friends were feeling touristy in this part of town. To paraphrase one of them during our meal, "even your driver wouldn't eat what you're eating right now." Some highlights from the trip:

1) Absurd cheapness of food available
- Entire meal with meat was possible for under 50 cents (Rs 20)
- One exception, however, was being upsold on some 'Bombay pheasant' which cost $6

2) Lesson in goat anatomy through consumption of following:
- Brain
- Kidney
- Liver
- Bone marrow

3) Discovery of Indian tissues

Me: Do you have a tissue or napkin?
Vendor: I have Indian tissue
Me: What?
[Vendor hands me a piece of old newspaper]

Sadly, however, the food was less than amazing despite the amount of dirt and grease involved. Perhaps we went to the wrong places. Never fear, given that I have survived this trip in one piece, I'm definitely willing to give M. Ali Road another shot!

Breaking the Mold: 'One Chalta Hai' at a Time

After two weeks of traveling abroad, I unknowingly arrived in a war zone at my Mumbai apartment: It's Man vs Mold. Apparently, Sri out of town + maid sick + Mumbai monsoon = apt is prime breeding ground for fungus.

The most shocking aspect of the affair is what transpired when I shared the news with people. Many of my Mumbai veteran friends just shrugged it off. It happens in all our houses at some point or other most monsoons; just have you maid clean better.

Well, I'm not going to be another casualty to Mumbai's anything goes, 'Chalta hai' attitude. Here is one man's plan for victory post-ambush:

Step 1- Focus on defense and limiting further damage
* Strip all exposed fabric in the apartment and have it sent for burning
* Send all other fabric for dry cleaning
* Open all blinds, windows, doors
* Run all fans, lights, A/C's 24/7

Step 2- Prepare for Offensive Action
* Investigate best type of weaponry to attack enemy at hand: Damprid is aparently the winner
* Go to Amarsons/Premsons and buy the entire suite of products manufactured by Damprid (literally)




Step 3- Fight the good fight and make sacrifices
* Wipe down all surfaces and apply mold prevention chemicals (ok, got the maid to do this)
* Stop sleeping (well it's difficult to sleep with all lights on and windows open)


Note: As always, some/most/all parts of this post may have been altered/exaggerated for dramatic effect

Restaurant Week India & Koh

After two weeks of gorging on amazing preparations in Los Angeles and New York, I've heard the best news this morning:

The event starts next week (Sept 6-12). A friend of mine (Mangal Dalal) along with a few other people has accomplished somewhat of a foodie coup by

1) Herding notoriously unherdable Indian entrepreneurs
2) Convincing Indian luxury places to sell things for the cheap-cheap
3) Picking just a great starting list which includes:
- Koh (Ian Kittichai of New York)
- San Qi (Great but normally overpriced Pan-Asian Resto at the Four Seasons)
- Tote (Same owners as Indigo but more exciting menu)

Reservations can be made through the website and the prix-fixe is only Rs 1000 (~$20).


Separately, I'm very excited that Ian Kittichai's Koh snuck into Mumbai during my hiatus (see below). Brunch this Sunday at New York's Kittichai--the once-hip but now largely-overlooked restaurant--pleasantly surprised me. Granted, it's not the best traditional Thai in New York (go to Sripraphai or Land Thai for that), but it's always more enjoyable to try innovative Thai!

Re-re-patting and the power of a signature

At this point, I'm already confused as whether I'm a repat, expat, repat turned expat pretending to be a pat or whatever. To add, more confusion to the mix, I've started my application process to be an OCI (Overseas Citizen of India) which some claim is essentially "dual citizenship" to India (it's more like an expensive lifetime multi-entry visa for people of Indian origin).

Ironically, I have had more unpleasant run-ins with immigration bureaucracies in moving to India than I did when I moved to America. However, my OCI process so far has been *knock on wood* relatively painless. I've heard of people being asked for a copy of the past page of their grandparents' expired passports (no joke).

The toughest part of the process for me was the signatures. Let me illustrate with simple set of facts. Number of signatures required for--

a) 1 US Bank Account Application = 1
b) 1 Indian Bank Account Application = 12
c) 1 OCI Application = Carpal tunnel syndrome aka a whopping 104

A quirky--but ultimately very secure--characteristic of India is that signatures are taken seriously. You have to sign your name exactly the same way everytime. And people actually check it! I've had a check bounce here because the banker called and said that my signature was missing a usually distinctive loop on 'x' letter--they thought it might have been a forgery. My signature is distinctive? Take that other-guy-with-a-famous-signature!

Not-so-friendly skies?

Some of you may have already about this, but those that haven't: a interesting encounter on my return Jet Airways flight from Calcutta. See below super-accurate transcript.*

Sri: You're in my seat
Passenger: No, I'm not [shows boarding pass]
Sri: Oh, they assigned us the same set. Flight attendant, fix this.
Flight attendant: Why don't you sit in this non-reclining seat instead?
Sri: No.
Flight attendant: Gucci/Prada Lady, will you sit that crappy seat instead of that guy?
Gucci/Prada Lady: Sure
Sri [thought bubble]: Wtf, ok, I'll take it.
Sri: That was nice of that lady to move
New Neighbor: Yeah...why are you here?
Crazy Girl In-Front (CGI): Who are you? Why you are here? What happened?
[Situation explained by Sri in detail]
CGI: Flight attendant, you're bad at your job. Is door open? Call ground staff. Ground staff, you also suck. How could this happen?
[All embarrassed staff members leave with heads-down]
Sri: Wow, thanks for that? This flight from Calcutta is always late and service on this airline sucks.
CGI: No, you suck. This airline is awesome. It's always on-time and has great service.
[2-hour verbal altercation follows]
Sri: Wtf is CGI's problem?
New Neighbor: She's daughter of the CEO and Chairman of Jet Airways. But don't worry, I'm head of Jet Airways HR. Give me your business card. I'll upgrade you to Platinum by Monday.
Sri: Oh. ... Can you also give me her number?

****Epilogue****

(1) Proclaimed identity of CGI was verified to be accurate
(2) Gucci/Prada Lady was a Jet exec that decided to change seats instead of prolong a potentially embarrassing situation for the airline
(3) I did not get upgraded to Plantium on Jet
(4) Finally, I may or may not be forever blacklisted on the airline


* Note, most details may have been simplified/paraphrased/modified slightly for dramatic effect.

Bel English or Belhi English?

There as as many varieties of English in India as there are social strata (read: thousands). However, the creme de la creme of Indian society--e.g grads of Doon and Cathedral--has decidedly developed a unique, elite, Bombay-Delhi accent of English. It's not quite British, and not quite American. Perhaps a linguistic crisis of conscience--striking a balance between former colonist and current imperialist?

In any case, more often than not, it sounds more polished than American and more accessible than British. I know it's getting close to a real language because there's a Lonely planet guide for it--see:

Some mannerisms/expressions I like:
* Pronouncing "can't" as British "caaant"--easier to tell it apart from "can"
* People "doing the needful" -- not that I would ever do that
* Prepone is a real word here--not that ANYONE ever does that in India

Things I could do without:
* Over/inappropriate use of "even," "only," "much," "just," "the same, " and "man/mate"
* Inappropriate use of progressive tense
* "Reverting" to an email instead of just replying to it
* Using honorifics ("Mr." and "Ms") with first names--sounds weird


Whether this evolving Bombay-Delhi English will be a "Bel" accent anglais or an attempt at an standard accent gone "Belhi" up, only time will tell. But I'm hoping when India's economic imperial age starts--say in 50 years--this will be one of our key exports. After all, the way to a man's brain is through his mouth. Did that sound dirty to you? Get your mind out of the gutter.

Separtely, new contest with double secret prize--add your own favorite/least favorite expressions and mannerisms of Bel/Belhi English! Or put in sample exaggerated constructions for fun, "even I was only telling you just now the same thing, na?"

The town that never stays

While New York is the city that never sleeps, Bombay is the town that's always out of town. Mumbaikers appear to more often "out-of-station"--a unique Indian term--than in town. A city in perma-transit.

I have a few theories:

1) Is it history? Mumbai's roots are of a trade city. What is trade but moving of goods for money. I suppose people need to move to effect movement of goods.

2) Is it family? There's always a cousin's wedding in Delhi (60% of air traffic in India is the Bombay-Delhi corridor)--and of course, every one has to be there! What will your aunt think?

3) or Is it just the weather? Bombay is tolerable for literally 14.58 days in Dec/Jan. No wonder people head to Florence/Kashmir in Summer, New York/Ambi Valley during the Monsoon, Phuket/Goa in the fall, and Switzerland/Alibaug in the winter.


By the way, I'm writing this from Calcutta. And while we're talking about the topic of being out of Bombay--I'll be in New York on weekends of Aug 13th and Aug 27th and in LA on Aug 20th weekend. Holla if you're around.

India -- Full of Life

"India Rising, India Gaining, India Growing, India Blooming" shout the Indian media. For once, I agree whole-heartedly--in more ways than one. As the !ncredible India campaign would rightly have you believe, India is absolutely full of life : being here is a perpetual multi-sensory overload. However, today, my focus will be on a slightly different definition of "life" in India.

Tabling the discussion of pro-choice vs anti-choice, let's define life for now as a single functioning cell. The conditions generally required for cell growth are

1) Temperature around 35 degrees Celsius: check
2) Ample supply of water: check/double check during monsoons
3) Supply of nutrients (carbon/nitrogen): check (you don't want to know where these "nutrients" are coming from)
4) Lack of antiseptic toxins: check

Where am I going with this? Grab a fruit in Bombay, take a bite, and leave it out for 5 min. Even in your filtered-air, daily cleaned office, 10 fruit-flies will come to life. You can literally watch life happen.

Hence, in a country with such conditions, when people use handkerchiefs, re-usable diapers and cloth tablewipes/mops, no wonder people get sick so often!

While its may be environmentally friendly, India's luxury tax on paper towels, kleenex and toilet paper needs to end ASAP. Besides paper's compostable. Due the lack of a proper market, the situation has gotten so bad, I know people that import 'Bounty' from the US on a regular basis! Pretty please, Indian government?

India gets Finance's oldest yet hottest accessory

Every couple of months, I disappear from the blogosphere while I live in my office. It's that time of the year again, but I have been able to sneak a few minutes to share this earth-shattering news that is causing an uproar of self-congratulation amongst the Indian financial media: India finally has a single character currency symbol! See below:

The Rupee, long considered a 2nd-hand currency behind USD, EUR, GBP, YEN, and even CAD, AUD, CNY, and CHF is finally getting its own symbol in Unicode, joining the ranks of Dollar, Euro, Pound, and Yen. The symbol was designed by an IIT professor and is a blend of 'R' in roman script and 'Ra' in Devanagari script

While it is just a symbol, I have to agree, it's pretty cool we have one. I'm not just saying that b/c I've gotten tired of typing "Rs" or "INR" on every output table.

Bombay's First Comedy Club

Consumption has risen rapidly in almost all categories over the last few years in Bombay except laughs (at least in the Western-style stand-up format). A new venture venture opened two weeks ago by the famous British Chain The Comedy Store is changing all that.

Given it's India's first stand-up, it's certainly going through some growing pains, but overall the experience was surprisingly entertaining. The laughs were as good as at any top-notch comedy club in UK/US--to be fair, the comedians were British and American. A few highlights:

1) The Culturally Tone Deaf MC
The Irish MC caused more than a few cringe-worthy chuckles talking to a mother in front row: referring to her as a MILF, asking about her breast feeding habits--in front of her grown children and an audience full of Indians

2) The Unnecessarily "Helpful" Audience
More than once, an audience member tried to loudly clarify a current events related exaggeration/simplification made by the comedian for the purpose of a joke

3) The Home-Grown Comedian
One of the best parts of the show was the organization introducing a bonus act of a local (Bengali comedian) who did an all-too-brief yet hilarious piece on Bengali culture and Indian television.

Definitely going back to this place especially if they continue to encourage local talent. Best part, you can't beat the price--only Rs 500 ($10, excludes food and drink).

Selling Love: One Commercial at a Time

Ironically, in a country where >50% of marriages are arranged,* >99% of movies are about love. Whereas the West is accused of using sex to sell, I dare say India uses love to sell--from breakfast cereals to cars. Arguably, precisely because pre-marital love so rare and verboten in many circles, it is so often romanticized (the old--Wordsworthian--meaning of that word).

The most blatant yet effective example of selling using love in India yet is by the Platinum Guild International (PGI)--a shady sounding organization that appears to be the DeBeers of Platinum in India. Their commercials specifically exploit the Indian system of arranged marriage and ask couples in effect, "You know the day you were married, but do you remember the day you fell in love? Commemorate that day with super-expensive matching platinum rings."

Readers I ask you, what PDI asks me every time I watch a world cup match: "What is your platinum day of love?"


* Note, exact stats on arranged marriages in India are difficult to find as the practice varies widely along ethno-linguistic, regional, economic class, and caste lines.

3rd Time's the Harm--Indian Bureacracy Part III: The Dreaded DMV (RTO)

As you know from previous two interactions with Indian Bureacracy (one, two), the result is always the same: Too slow (them), too furious (you). Going to the ultimate bureaucracy even by Western standards--the DMV/RTO--you can imagine my apprehension.

However, to my great surprise, the day was all simplicity and expediency: the whole process took only 15 min.* A few observations:

1) They gave me a license without my taking a written or driving test (I just showed them a US license)
2) Video explaining road rules of Maharashtra was in Punjabi with a hilarious host which is ultimately more farcical for the reason that very people speak Punjabi in Maharashtra
3) Bombay RTO is more advanced than most US DMVs: they even took my finger prints electronically!
4) I got excited to see a slice of real Bombay given that there are few places more democratizing than the DMV, but alas the majority of the people getting licenses were teenage brats from Malabar hill in Diesel tees and madras shorts
5) For some reason, as part of getting my license, I was interviewed by the Assistant Commissioner of Police (ACP) of South Mumbai. Notice, on below graphic from the RTO website, he doesn't actually report to anyone! Good thing he decided not to go all power-trippy on me.

* It might be worth noting here that I paid other people do all the work for me for the license so all I had to was show-up and get printed and photographed (I didn't fill out a single form or wait in a single line). In the good old days, you didn't even have to go to the RTO to get a license!

Monsoon, monsoon go away

The Monsoon has arrived. How do I know that it's the monsoon versus just normal rain? That's like asking me, how do I know it's the BP oil spill and not Bobby Jindal's hummer leaking petrol. I think everyone knows what rain looks like, this is what monsoon in Bombay looks like:

The monsoon inspires a Seussian* exasperation in me (and yes, it's only day of the 3-month monsoon) a la Green Eggs and Ham:

I could not, would not, in my house.

I would not, could not, want this douse.

I would not need it at the docks.

I would not want it on the rocks.

I would not want it here or there.

I would not want it anywhere.

I needn't have in this monsoon swam.

I do not like it, Sri-I-am.

Fortunately, I'm somewhat spared given my car has arrived and it's not coincidence that the nicer parts of the city are generally elevated (e.g. Malabar HILL, Cumbala HILL, AltaMOUNT Road, etc.)


* Random fact for those of you non-members of Gang Green, Dr. Seuss--Theodor Geisel--is a Dartmouth Alum!

The Bombay Brunch

Hard to believe it's taken me almost 8 months of living in the city experience this Bombay institution, but I finally had a proper Bombay brunch this weekend. What you may ask is the difference between a Bombay Brunch and a Brunch? Sunday brunch has taken on a slightly different meaning in India than in New York: it's less 'Sex and the City', more 'Friends'. Beyond the difference in cultural connotation, the key differences are four-fold:

1) It's all you can eat (but in a tasteful mix of buffet + made-to-order)
2) It's all you can drink (limited by eclectic mix of drinks from champagne and Bloody Mary's to kiwi, mango and banana milk drinks)
3) Designated drivers are often available for free/almost free
4) Did I mention it was all you can drink?

Location of this brunch was at Indigo (displayed above), aka white central--I think foreigners actually outnumbered Indians among the clientele. The Sunday brunch, by the way, is also the singularly best way to ruin your entire Sunday: I literally did nothing useful after that brunch.

Baby's First Drive (in India)!

Yesterday, I drove myself home. Normally, this would not be an accomplishment, but given that it's left-hand driving and Mumbai, I deserve a gold star. Below are some key lessons I learned from my brief experience:

1) Close your side mirrors--unless you want to lose them
2) Use rear view mirror ONLY to practice your driving 'game face' and NOTHING else
3) Use your horn--as frequently as possible
4) Ignore lanes--it's often more dangerous to try to follow lane driving
5) Never follow driven behind/in front/anywhere around anyone with below scarlet letter

Above "L-Board" indicates a "learning driver." Technically, I should have one of these I guess, oh well.

Towers of Silence & An Introduction to Bombay Nobility

I say this in the most loving way possible: the Parsis of Bombay are the city's most theatrical community. They remind of erstwhile nobles of other nations, a tiny educated, wealthy group that wields enormous amount of power and influence.

Parsis are essentially Iranian Zoroastrians who fled Persia 1,000 years ago and settled near Bombay. The historically trade-oriented community started 12 of India's 15 major industries and own some of the country's largest business houses: Tata, Godrej, Wadia etc. Bombay's CBD Nariman Point is named after a Parsi. Sadly, like many other blue-blood communities, Parsis have been on rapid demographic decline--falling ~10% a year since the 1940s with fewer than 100,000 of them today.

The amount of interesting information about the Parsis could fill a book and 3 movies, but I'm just picking up one topic today--the Towers of Silence--to illustrate that Parsis are just as epic in death as they are in life.

Zoroastrians believe that earth, fire, and water are sacred and should not polluted with the human remains and Humans should give back even in death. So, how do they dispose of the dead? Leave them for the vultures of course. Bodies are placed at the top of the Towers of Silence in Malabar Hill (tower in middle of pic above)--think Upper East Side of Mumbai--to be consumed. Recently, however, this has produced even more drama due to the decimation of the vulture population (99.9% drop) in India due to diclofenac poisoning leading to bodies decomposing for days instead of being consumed in minutes. The community is up in arms and even considering alternatives like large mirrors to accelerate decomposition of bodies. Did I mention they were theatric?

The missing dryer phenomenon

In a land where the rich are never wont for anything, I've visited many a well-to-do Mumbai household that lacks what would be considered a basic necessity in the West: the dryer. Not sure what drives this, maybe the ridiculous price of electricity (our apt monthly bill is ~$400)?

Most people have drying racks (including innovative ones suspended in air) or wires to hang clothes on. Many houses suspend their clothes to dry outside their windows and balconies. I used to consider this irritating and hideous. On a recent trip back from the airport, I noticed the charm these clothes provide--they add beautiful color to otherwise drab apartment buildings and chawls.

The above picture isn't doing justice to what I saw but still, perhaps not having a dryer isn't so bad.

Bombay vs Cairo - The Showdown

For once, I'm doing a travel wrap-up post relatively on time! As always, for funsies, we're going to do it in a VH1 celebrity show down format. For consistency, rounds have been kept similar to Bangkok and Singapore rounds. Quiz : guess which one's Bombay?

Round 1: The streets
Despite the 3rd world and the lack of public garbage cans, Cairo's streets win, albeit just barely, on higher prevalence of proper sidewalks and surprisingly small amount of street waste.

Round 2: The food
Egyptian food is delicious, even if the pigeon didn't quite live-up to my expectation of a quail-esque foul. Having too hard a time deciding on this one--I think I'll have to give it a tie for now.

Round 3: The traffic
Cairo traffic is very similar to Bombay traffic; despite the many fly-overs, the streets are as crowded as ever and the traffic snail-paced as always. This one is not even worth splitting hairs. They both suck in this regard, so let's just call it a tie.

Round 4: The taxis (wouldn't be a Repat journey urban competition without this round)
While Cairo taxis do have a higher incidence of A/C and pleasant, intriguing fragrances, Cairo loses this round handily because of the constant need to barter each fare. Trust me, it gets super frustrating and horrendously time consuming as soon as the novelty wears off.

Round 5: Being able to travel in piece
Egypt is notoriously difficult to travel in. You're constantly being hawked items that you don't need but have to bargain aggressively for the bare necessities (e.g. bottled water, sunblock, exotic arab headdress). While the fantastic monuments more than make up for the hassle, Cairo still loses this round of urban showdown.

Bombay wins this time around (2-1-2), but just by a nose. This is the most serious threat to Mumbai yet--the city better watch-out: Hong Kong is coming up next. Meanwhile, my friend Amelia has diligently compiled lots of pictures from Cairo that can be seen on facebook.

Reading in/about/around Mumbai

One of the perks of a loud, a/c-less 20-min cab ride everyday is my new-found ability to read for pleasure (impossible to take calls or enjoy music). I've finished 3 books in the last 2 months, while still a pathetic number, it's more than I've read in 2 years in New York.

Two of the books I've read are ones everyone has been recommending as soon I mentioned I was moving to India: Maximum City and The White Tiger. Today, I'll be literally taking a page from the literary blog of my good friend Andrew Seal and provide some reflections on recent readings.


Maximum City: Bombay Lost and Found

Mehta's brutally realistic and extraordinary witty observations of India through the lens of repat made for truly entertaining and entirely relevant reading for me. I started reading the novel midway through my own online Maximum City-style chronicling and noticed often Mehta and I have made observations about similar topics (e.g. traffic, bureaucratic pace, food, housing, etc.) Perhaps even a Maximum City has a limited set of genuinely compelling topics to write about? As for criticisms of the novel, Mehta starts from an unusually negative viewpoint of the city but quickly romanticizes all the ills he sees--is he trying to convince the reader or himself? His personal writing style is extremely "wandery" and "rambly"; the novel could have been helped by a true flow of narrative instead of a random assortment of chapters and sections. Regardless, I think Maximum City is an essential read for anyone considering a move to Mumbai.


The White Tiger

The only aspect of the primitively written White Tiger that pulled me through was the enormous sense of tension--why did the driver kill his gentle, foreign educated, young Indian boss? Upon further reflection, I forgive Adiga's utter lack of subtlety as his novel draws attention to an issue taken for granted in places like India: the rigid class system that divides people into the service class and non-service class. The image of two overlapping worlds operating in parallel, oblivious of other's pleasures and plights reminds us of the existence of feudalistic mores in human society in the age of the iPhone. Perhaps, I should be afraid that my future driver hails from the same thinly veiled "Darkness" region of India as the novel's murderous protagonist.


Currently I'm reading English, August; I'm always looking for reading list recommendations, so please don't hesitate to suggest--as long as you don't say Shantaram.

Bombay vs Singapore - The Showdown

Here comes another long overdue post on some travel! Remember, for funsies, we're going to do it in a VH1 celebrity show down format. For consistency, rounds have been kept similar to the Bangkok showdown. Secret question: guess which one's Bombay?

Round 1: The streets
Singapore has the most immaculate sidewalks and roads I've ever seen in the world. Singy wins easily.

Round 2: The food
While Singapore does have excellent Asian restaurants to lead Bombay cuisine, it's shame that all of them are in malls. Bombay edges-up for a win on ambiance.

Round 3: The traffic
Singapore's amazing streets and people that follow traffic rules makes for a generally easy win--even if level of competence among drivers is often questionable.

Round 4: The taxis (wouldn't be a Repat journey urban competition without this round)
This should be an easy win for Singapore given standard taxis there have air conditioning and engine power greater than 10 hp except the problem is that it's impossible to find a cab in Singapore. You can generally only pick them at designated stations that are located far apart and come complete with long lines. Bombay FTW.

Round 5: Being able to chew gum
For all of it's government's hot accomplishments, there are many things that you might take for granted elsewhere that you just can't do in Singapore (e.g. gum, non-hardcore drugs, etc.) Bombay might have a little too much personal freedom but I'd take that any day over too little.

Bombay wins this time around (3 -2), but before we feel too bad for Singapore, I get the feeling that Singy really doesn't care what other people think of it. Residents are healthy, wealthy, and more or less happy even if they have to give up certain liberties to achieve it--a bargain they've come to accept.

I bought a car!

After months of melting in the Bombay sun, I finally sucked it up and bought a car. Except calling it a car might be an exaggeration--it's a Hyundai i10 (kidding, kidding, people with Hyundais/love for Hyundais relax...). Check it out:

Obviously, the important part of buying a car is having a fool-proof strategy of negotiation on price. I went with two other friends to buy the car. Our 4-step strategy was as follows:

1) We're here to buy a car on loan--give us your best price
2) Actually, we're here to buy 2 cars--now give us your best price.
3) Psych, we're actually here to buy 3 cars--seriously, give us your best price.
4) Guess what, we're gonna pay cash. Now give us your mom's best price.

Fortunately, one of my friends was an expert negotiator and we were able to get a decent price because our "fool-proof" strategy failed utterly (May be it was the mom joke on Mother's day?)

Overheard in Bombay

Ok, this is not so much conversation overheard as conversation had, but still worth sharing. Clue of what's about to come:

Scene: House party at someone's enormous, gorgeous pre-war penthouse apartment
Characters: Sri, Polish Dude, French Dude

****

Polish Dude
: People in India don't know how to drink. I miss the days when drinking meant drinking and not "socializing"
: For my friend's birthday last year in Poland, we drank for a day and half straight.
: We finished 20 litres of vodka between 5 people and then passed out.

Me
: How did you even stay awake that long? Not that I consume lots of vodka and have trouble staying awake.

Polish Dude
: We were on drugs.

Me
: Ok. Makes sense.

French Dude
: I heard Polish smaller pussy than Russians.

Me and Russian Dude:
: W. T. F.

****

In all seriousness, both guys were cool, although I did hear the French guy may have proposed to someone that night.

FYI, that image above is the Polish vodka recommendation from my new friend.

Strike Day!

I always knew India was more like Europe than America--just didn't want this to mean in the labor laws kind of way. My last 24 hrs have been filled with oodles of strikes.

Last night, I was stranded in Calcutta. Again. This time I had to miss the last flight out of town because disgruntled residents and employees decided to block one of the major roads to the airport. We unsuccessfully tried to get the flight to wait on the taramac for us (the fact that we even dared to attempt this is one of the many reasons I love India).

Kolkata (Calcutta Indianized) is nutty as well all know. But could this happen in my beloved Bombay? Even the blogosphere is shocked: "Is Calcutta Happening to Bombay?"

I landed in Bombay at 9am to find that the motormen of the Indian Railways' (the world's largest system) went on strike wreaking havoc across they city--the local transit system (also the world's largest) is run by the railways. Only 20% of trains were operational.

Consequences of the strike for me:

1) Wading traffic in South Bombay which went from bad to worse
2) Waiting 4x as long to find a cab
3) Ordering lunch from the only (and crappy) restaurant in area that delivers -- no pantry staff
4) Watching overflowing garbage in the bathroom -- no cleaning staff

See what I have to put up with. Seriously though, I feel bad for the millions (yes, millions) of travelers who may not have been able to do the things they wanted to do today. Fortunately, the strike ended by evening!

The Killer Serial Phenomenon

If you ever have the good fortune of observing prime-time, original programming in India, you'll likely recognize the following breakdown:

Some 50% of original programming in India is "serials." Now, calling a serial, a mere soap opera would not be fair. Granted, serials do have the traditional signs of a soap opera:

1) Incredulous plot lines with unclear character motivations
2) Unnecessarily long pauses with dramatic music and nausea inducing close-ups
3) Extremely loud monologues/private conversations conveniently overheard by others

etc. etc.

But they are all this and so much more. They are such a staple of Indian TV watching culture that they are shown in prime time (take that 'Days of Our Lives'!). Some people's entire evening schedule runs around the serials.

The shows, of course, are all very women focused. The sympathetic protagonists and unfathomably evil antagonists are all female; the male characters are an after thought. Because this is India, they also all tend to be very joint family oriented. Hence, it's no surprise the most successful soap opera of them all (and my extended family's primary vice from 2003 to 2005) was a serial called Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi (Because a Mother-in-law was once a daughter-in-law):

I am seriously starting to think that serials may be able to give my beloved telenovelas a run for their money.

Oh! Calcutta!

Going to Calcutta is a blast from India's past. From the moment you land in the dilapidated airport, you feel like you've arrived in 1950. All the taxis are old, yellow Hindustan Motors Ambassador cars and the city still has "functional" trams --not charming/touristy ones like SF(see pics below).

Calcutta is India's Philadephia--former #1 city, center of commerce and culture which is now a has-been. In order to explain the city's rapid decline/galacial stagnation I offer two exhibits:

1) West Bengal--the state for which Calcutta is the seat of govt--is run by the world's longest-running democratically elected communist government in the world. States with significant communist/marxist influence are among the poorest, least developed in the country. Granted this is bit of a catch-22, but I can't help but think that there's something to this observation.

2) Famously laid-back and philosophical mind-set of the Bengali people. In Bombay, you're asked "what do you do?" In Calcutta, you're asked, "what do you think about what you do?" The Bengali attitude of "I think, therefore I don't do" means nothing happens.


P.S. Fun fact regarding the title of this post, it's the name of a sexually charged theatre production as well as a famous Bengali restaurant in Bombay.

P.P.S Not so fun fact about Calcutta, day-trips to Cal from Bombay are grueling. For a 4 to 5-hr meeting in Cal, I have to leave my house at 5am and return at midnight (or 4:30am if the flight is delayed like this Friday).

Sailing in Bombay

In an effort to have life outside of work and going out, I've decided to cultivate some hobbies. Attempt # 1 = Sailing: a new, awesome friend of mine (she can comment on the post if she likes) offered to have me join her on a sailing class.

As you may know, the two most common smells of Bombay are raw sewage and rotten fish, both of which emanate mostly from the sea. Given this, you might wonder, why I would choose to go on a sailing in class in Bombay instead of during my time in Boston, LA, Costa Rica, Aruba, Bahamas etc. Yes, I'm a masochist.

Below pic is basically, Sri's eye view in a Mumbai sail boat:

The class itself was a lot of fun. I learned about running, reaching and beating --no, this is not a "list of things Elin did to Tiger that fateful night." They're proper sailing terms. I only got a nose-full of Mumbai water a couple of times, but it was enough to make me reconsider taking a full course of lessons. Still debating about this, what do you guys think?

The afternoon ended with tea time (well lemonade time for me) at the Royal Bombay Yacht Club, fancy-schmancy institution with reasonable joining fees.

Attempt #2= Oil Painting, let's see how that goes!

Haberdashery in Mumbai

Humid Mumbai summer is on full-swing. How do I know? As soon as I walk out of my apartment, my sun glasses fog up. Since I can't change the Mumbai weather, I figured I'd change my wardrobe: I'm going all linen from now on!

We've already discussed how everything worth having in India is twice the US price aka I can't afford Hugo Boss, Zegna, etc. in India. I decided to try the next best thing: bespoke. After extensive research, I landed on 3 very different tailors. Below is a quick review of Bombay tailoring scene/arguably gayest subject matter for a post on this blog (barring the one about Yash Birla):

1) Avinash Punjabi (on Colaba Causeway):
Pros: Located in Expat central Colaba, AP's English speaking ability and service were impeccable.
Cons: limited fabrics and a 'Friends' style inseam measuring incident

2) Sheetal (on Grand Road):
Pros: Extensive selection of styles and fabrics; Proper fitting session with in-process clothing
Cons: Less adventurous designers; shady ambience

3) Gabbana (Breach Candy):
Pros: Highest quality fabrics (incl Zegna, Canali, etc.)
Cons: Exorbitant prices; service was a little less than personal, guess I wasn't high roller enough


I recently went in for the fitting after my clothes were made all 3. Results were alright. More importantly, I've heard of more great tailors. The search for the perfect tailor is not done yet!