The London Underground Blues ...

Heard on the Public Announcement System at London Bridge Tube Station: May the lady with the child not rush down the escalator please.

My conversation with the London Underground Security Staff, while trying to get from Bank to Monument Tube Station via the platform: My dear Good fella, as of Friday the 14th of November, you can not transit from Monument to Bank, due to escalator works. You need to continue your journey overground, but if you do wish to try this route then you must come back in 2 years.

And ofcourse today's random poem from the TFL web site
Western wind when wilt thou blow
the small rain down can rain
Christ if my love were in my arms
and I in my bed again

Being hit by a Thunderbolt ...

Dissolve To: Sicilian countryside. Young village girls pick flowers and sing. Unaware of Michael, Fabrizio and Calo watching them. One of the girls, Apollonia, is startled when she sees Michael. After an exchange of looks, Apollonia turns and walks away, saying something in Italian.

Fabrizio [In Italian]: Mama mia what a beauty
Apollonia [Something in Sicilian]
Fabrizio (to Michael, who can't keep his eyes off Apollonia): Oh -- I think you got hit by the thunderbolt
Calo (poking Michael's shoulder)[In Italian]: Michele -- In Sicily, women are more dangerous than shotguns (Apollonia turns to look at Michael)

Dissolve To: A small village cafe. We hear "Sicilian Pastorale." The owner, Vitelli, after yelling something into the kitchen, welcomes the guests, who are seating themselves at a table.

Vitelli [In Italian]: Did you have a good hunt?
Fabrizio [In Italian]: You know all the girls around here? We saw some real beauties ... (then, after Vitelli smiles) ... One of them struck our friend like a thunderbolt
Fabrizio [In Italian]: She would tempt the devil himself
Calo [In Italian]: ... tempt the devil ...
Vitelli (gesturing "put together" with his fingers) [Something like, in Italian]: Ah, I understand -- really put together...
Fabrizio [In Italian]: Really put together, eh Calo?
Calo [In Italian]: ...together
Vitelli (gesturing an ideal female form with his hands)
Fabrizio [In Italian]: Such hair -- such mouth!
Calo: A bocca...
Vitelli [In Italian]: Ah, the girls around here are beautiful -- but virtuous, ah?
Fabrizio [In Italian]: This one had a purple dress -- and a purple ribbon in her hair
Calo [In Italian]: ... a purple ribbon ...
Fabrizio [In Italian]: ... a type more Greek than Italian
Calo: Piu Greca d'Italiana
Fabrizio [In Italian]: Do you know her?
Vitelli (curtly)[In Italian]: No! -- There's no girl like that in this town! (Vitelli turns and enters the cafe, yelling)
Fabrizio (gets up to look into cafe) [In Italian]: My God, I understand!
Michael (to Calo) [In Italian]: What's wrong?
Fabrizio (returns, after Calo shrugs, to collect his things) [In Italian]: Let's go -- it's his daughter

Have any of you been hit by a thunderbolt ? Tell me your story ...

I failed the Tebbit Test ...

"A large proportion of Britain's Asian population fail to pass the cricket test. Which side do they cheer for? It's an interesting test. Are you still harking back to where you came from or where you are?"

A worried Norman Tebbit, a Conservative British MP, in an interview with the Los Angeles Times in April 1990 made this comment as he felt immigrants and their children from Asia (Pakistan, India, Srilanka and Bangladesh) could not show loyalty to Britain and hence would fail to assimilate with the mainstream until they supported the England team at Cricket.


In 2008, in the Euro Football final a bunch of Indians in Dusseldorf faced a similar dilemma. All of us wanted Spain to win because of the wonderful brand of football that they played and their total domination on the event by remaining unbeaten throughout the tournament.

The problem was that Spain was playing against Germany, a country that we were living in at that point of time. My heart wanted Spain to win and my mind was rooting for Germany. More than the loyalty that arose from the comfortable home and the great job that I had over the past two years, I wanted Germany to win because I wanted to revel in the all night celebrations that would have seized Dusseldorf after a German victory.The best Team did win and I failed the easiest form of the Tebbit Test, considering that India wasn't even in the equation.

The borough of Eden

Readers are warned that this is my own spin on the etymology of Edinburgh and for the original etymology, one must refer to Edinburgh . Anyway here goes:

Edin: Eden; from the Garden of Eden where Adam and Eve were created. Eden is hebrew for delight.
burgh: borough; area, fortress, walled area

And hence the title of the blog. Understated and a city very much at peace with itself, it's complex too, like blended whisky, a place where the distant sound of those haunting bag pipes can so easily fade into the screeching sound of police sirens. Most people talk about Edinburgh during Hogamanay, the last day of the Year and the Scottish tradition of celebrating this day - a time of the year when Edinburgh becomes a wild party place. Obviously, the city has more to offer than that and it is with this conviction that I decided to write about the charms of this city.

Defining Moment # 1: The McCondom

"Scotland ... No English ... Ireland .. No English ... England ... English"
I overheard this at Jenny Ha's Tavern, on the Royal mile, at the table next to mine. I was drinking a glass of single malt (think it was Ardbeg) and couldn't help but smile when this young, cute au pair from Turin was trying to give the man who was trying to chat her up her take on who in the United Kingdom spoke the real English.
Jenny Ha's was also the place where I came across the McCondom. Condoms in vending machines of toilets is commonplace across Europe, but the McCondom was special. It was the first whisky flavoured condom that I came across and as I tried to understand the enigma of those blessed Scots, I couldn't help but raise my arms in exasperation at their cheek.

Defining Moment #2: Holyrood Park

Holyrood is not a badly spelt scottish version of wannabe mainstream cinema but an anglicisation of the Scottish Gaelic words Haly Ruid (Holy Cross). The Holyrood Park is bang in the centre of town and gives you the best views of the city.

The Hyde Park in the centre of London may be bigger and the English Gardens in Munich may be more aesthetic but to find such an amazing piece of highland landscape, unspoilt, right in the middle of the city makes me wonder at the amazing odds. The highest peak in Holyrood Park is Arthur's Seat, named after the legend of King Arthur, though, I think it is one of those urban legends that the Scots invented to keep this place untouched. As I climbed and watched the sun set on the city I couldn't help but wonder if there was a better seat to be perched on while watching the day dissolve into night.

Defining Moment #3: Graffiti and Shortbread

When you have 3 defining moments to choose in such a wonderful city, you end up cheating by clubbing moments. Edinburgh by far has the most charming Pubs and the graffiti in the pubs are equally charming. Picture this at the Blind Poet which quotes Churchill's I've taken more from alcohol than alcohol has taken from me or the Irish Love Ballad The greatest love above all other loves is the tender, passionate love of one drunken slob to another. As I hopped from one pub to another I couldn't help but writing more and more of such one liners and wondered how I had never seen one repeated even across pubs. Fascinating indeed !!!

I always thought Amma made the best home made biscuits in the world. Every summer holidays as she baked biscuits I'd come running into the kitchen waiting for her to get them out of the oven so that I could lay my hands on them. I wouldn't stop and Amma never tried to stop me. I would end up having far more than I could eat and would invariably end up skipping dinner. That day when I ate Scottish shortbreads for the first time, I was very much convinced that Amma came from an old Scottish clan that had settled in coastal Andhra Pradesh. The shortbreads came very close to Amma's biscuits ...

My Roman Holiday

Rome at the surface is just like any other capital city in the world - The best directions for getting around the city are provided by policemen (maps by the way come a distinct 17th ... ), People on two wheelers think their grandparents built the roads they ride on and the best bet for fast food options is Italian Pizza.

Strike the surface and you have a city that is charming in its own way - a city with a great deal of character waiting to burst out of its seams. When the coins stop finding the floor of Fonata Di Trevi and the Colosseum closes at Sun set, when St Peter's closes it's doors and the Spanish Steps (and the boat fountain at it's foot) bear a deserted look, all we have left is impressions of the people we ran into. I can say, rather emphatically, that Rome gave me some rather vivid memories of the people I bumped into. I've decided to call some of these the defining moments of my Roman Holiday.

Defining Moment #1: The Sisters of Trastevere

As I walked aimlessly around Rome I entered Trastevere a hip, bohemian section of Rome that is never written about in any of the guide books but something most visitors must make as a part of their itineraries. Hungry and wanting to get something to eat at about 10:30 in the night I entered McDonald's (why ?). Out of the handful of times I've entered McDonald's all my life (Delhi, Bangalore, Atlanta, Milan, Paris, Dusseldorf and Zurich prior to this one in Rome) I've always tried being faithful to the Mac Salad.

As I concentrated on my Salad I noticed a table-ful of nuns (for a lack of a better collective noun for nuns) sitting and enjoying burgers and fries. I was tempted to ask if it was a daily ritual after a hard day's work or was it one of those special Friday night treats. Too embarrassed to ask for permission and too greedy to miss out on a possible Pulitzer (yeah . . I aim big), I acted as if I was taking a picture of this rather nondescript canvas on the wall as I shot them. As they talked animatedly, laughed and enjoyed the meal, I realised that I needed a visit to Rome, to help bring back a perspective on the Christian Clergy. At the end of it - all of us are humans first and then everything else we're made out to be ...

Defining Moments #2: The Indian Immigration Story

I was spending 3 nights in Rome and I decided I'd do the 3 nights in 3 different places: Night #1 would be in this posh place where I'd have to wince when I swished my card out to pay; Night #2 would be in a dump which would be less expensive than a meal at a reasonable restaurant and Night #3 would be in between - a place I would be most comfortable spending a night. After spending a night at a 110 Euros a night place, I decided to look for home (read dump). As I walked past Castello Saint Angelo I saw a Punjabi (Sardar) selling souvenirs on a road side stall. I hesitated, turned back and as our eyes met we greeted each other silently from a distance with "Mera bharat mahaan". Using my heavily accented Hindi I asked if he knew of a place I could stay at. To make it absolutely clear I drilled the word cheap in as a many 4 different languages. 2 Phone calls later I was talking to Deepu, who was into arranging cheap places to stay for cheap people like me.

We had an appointment at 7:00 PM - "The 4th stop when u board # 714 from Termini" was his idea of a rendezvous and we had fixed it at 25 Euros. By 7:30 we were ringing the bell of a Punjabi family from Ludhiana - "Singh" was the name on the calling bell. The place was no dump, it was basic, but clean and most importantly this was so much better than the best scenario that I had conjured up in my head for Night #2.

They had been in Italy for 10 years; He worked as a baker, she did odd jobs. They had children. This was their way of earning the extra bit. They had people from all over - England, Germany, India. People from embassies and people on business and most of them had come to know of them through word of mouth - like me. The Singhs were doing pretty well for themselves in the hospitality business.

The next day not sure if the No. 64 was going to the Vatican, I asked this Indian looking guy in my heavily accented Hindi (nobody expects accents to change after spending one night with a Punjabi family). He replied in English. As we sat on the last seat of the bus (which surprisingly was the place most of the immigrants always sat on the bus and bizarrely reminded me of Rosa Parks and her Alabama protest) we started to talk. Laiju was mallu and an illegal immigrant who had come to France 4 years earlier on a Schengen visa that expired within 3 months of entry. He moved to Italy as it was easier to survive as an illegal imigrant and was working in a workshop to support his mother back home in Thrissur. Laiju had just applied for a Residence Permit and was hoping that it would come through so that he could meet his folks back at home.

Defining Moment #3: A small step for entrepreneurship ... a giant leap for Globalisation

300 Meters from St. Peter's Basilica, a Chinese lady had set-up a stall on the side. She was charging 1 Euro for people who wanted their names written in Chinese. Audacity.Chutzpah.Guts. 300 metres from the Vatican. A German pontiff at the pulpit. An Italian city where the largest Asian tourist population is Japanese. This women is selling people a piece of paper with their names written in Chinese.

It reminded me of the old lady in Friedman's book, The world is Flat, who'd be sitting in a park in Shanghai every morning with a weighing machine charging people who wished to weigh themselves. Friedman endearingly decided to indulge the lady. That was his ode to globalisation and his way to bring her into the web of globalisation. I decided against indulging the lady at the Vatican. The unwritten yet simplest rule of capitalism and hence globalization is that people buy services/goods that are useful. I want her to win, but I want her to win by the rules.

Don ...

He has always been a phenomenon. His following - legendary, and the aura around him - invincible. He's been a maverick, a rebel without a cause and the superstar we never had but have always craved for. He's as suave and merciless as the younger Corleone and as infallible as Mr Clark Kent's alter ego.

A few weeks back I had the chance to watch the Iowa Republican Primary results and saw Mike Huckabee's ad that was endorsed by Chuck Norris. Looking at Chuck Norris's facts doing the rounds on the Internet I realised a lot of them apply to our very own Don.

As he loses his single status a little later this year, this is my tribute to a friend, soul mate and my personal hero. Ladies and Gentleman ... from the United States of Apparala, weighing 70 kilograms and 165 cms ... The Don of all Dons ... The jack and master of all trades ... Nuthan Reddy Godhumalla ...

1. If you have five hundred rupees and Don Nuthan has five hundred rupees then Don Nuthan has more money than you.
2. There is no 'ctrl' button on Don Nuthan's computer. Don Nuthan is always in control.
3. There is no theory of evolution. Just a list of creatures Don Nuthan has allowed to live.
4. Don Nuthan counted to infinity - twice.
5. Don Nuthan can divide by zero.
6. It takes Don Nuthan 20 minutes to watch 60 Minutes of Television.
7. Don Nuthan once rode a bull, and nine months later it had a calf.

[Blogger's Note: The picture was taken when he came home to Vetlapalem ... Needless to say everybody at home absolutely adored him. ]