London

It seems rather absurd to be writing about a vacation that transgressed ages ago. Then again, a far greater crime would be to let the transgression wane away. So here I am trying to relive the magic of the past.

As I had envisaged in my dreams, reality was more demystifying than the actual.  From the moment I set foot in London, my whole concept of realism was transformed. Greeted by small London cabs, the American dream seemed larger than real.

Narrow old world roads lead to beautiful minion houses in atypical English neighborhood.  As I looked outside the window of my swerving cab, I couldn’t help but notice the Asian influence in the air.  For a moment my mind drifted to the galis of India. I was entranced by the eastern influence. It seemed like the English Raj was still much in awe of its colonies.

The cost misty air also took me by surprise.  June was by no means a scorcher in this European terrain.  Dark clouds were looming by, and colorful umbrellas were beginning to spruce up the air. This made the city more ethereal. Walking by the streets and watching the famed red London double Decker bus roll around the street corners, I couldn’t help but smile. Of course, the boutiques stocked up in the latest European trends priced at oh la la pounds made me gasp for cover. Coming from a country of deals, this was a tad above my expectation.  Just, as I was about to loose my balance, the quintessential London pubs made my smile once again. Brit accent emanating from the pubs mixed with the smell of beer lightened by spirits.

We began our traverse in Greenwich Village.  Making our way through the maze of colorful London tubes, we reached our first stop. Grabbing our umbrellas in a typical English fashion, we undertook a walking tour of the city. There were Fish and chips eat outs in every corner. And the old fashioned telephone booths beckoned us. This felt like renaissance. 

Having tasted the old country feel, we made our way to another extinguished landmark, “ The London Eye”. A mammoth glass enclosed giant wheel encircling London city seemed like the perfect end to our day. As I soaked in the famed landmarks like “Big Ben” and “Buckingham palace”, I was ready for an adventure.

And thus began our Big Bus London tour. Starting at Buckingham Palace, we made our way through the crowded London streets. Past the Victorian cathedrals, svelte apartments, sprawling parks, trendiest shopping districts, and streets owned by the queen, we were treated to the most luxurious and eye candy sights.  Standing in Trafalgar Square, surrounded by the history and ethnicities, we were lost in time. As time lost travelers we made our way to the penultimate stop, the “Tower of London”.  The day marked to a close with a boat ride past the London Bridge. And all I could think of was my daughter’s favorite rhyme

London to the naked eye is a city of thoroughbreds. High fashion and culinary finesse is second nature to the locals. On the one hand, the hopeless romantic can get lost in the cathedrals and the Victorian landmarks. On the other end, a hopeless nomad can revel in the street arts, rustic English countryside, beer and strawberries. That to me is the brilliance of London.

Summer Holiday

We are going on a summer holiday, if you want to come you can. We are going to London and Scotland highlands. Holiday!

It seems rather queer to be writing about a vacation in the offing. Then again the magic begins way before the actual journey. And this is no ordinary entourage; it’s our first in Europe. Incidentally all the mesmerizing stories, odd warnings and first hand reports from family and friends, make this future time travel surreptitiously enticing. Taking into account all the back and forth analysis, it seems like an anticlimactic finish, which ultimately led to the ticket booking this weekend.

In my travel bible- Europe is the penultimate touristy destination. And as we take our first step, my mind is focused. “The Tourist” in me seeks redemption. So over the next few months, as we gear towards our destination, I hope to find some method in the chaos around me. 

Strap on, fun is about to begin!

Kanyakumari- Heaven on Earth

I continued on my spiritual journey to the southern most tip of the Indian subcontinent- kanyakumari. This penultimate trip drew to a close an exhausting yet dynamic year for me. It was a year of changes, adjustments and self-discovery. A self imposed sabbatical had in many ways given me fresh perspectives in life.

As fate had intervened we set forth to Kanyakumari by railways. It was the first train journey of sorts for my little one. I was excited and petrified by the prospects of sharing the berth with her. In hindsight, the train must have been jailbreak for her, a welcome relief from the tiresome constraints of the flight. It was fun to watch her absorb the new environment. Her excitement was infectious, and I got tugged into her world. As I watched her look outside the windows and leap at will from the berths I couldn’t help but wonder how miraculous a simple journey could be.

Alas the destination couldn’t have been any further from my imagination. Hoping to see traces of my sinagara Chennai, I encountered a blistering northern invasion of the seas. The streets resounded with cries of Hindi and Bengali interspersed with some south Indian dialects. It therefore came as no surprise to see Punjabi dhabas outnumbering the idly joints. If paradoxes were to be believed it was right here. And to think this was only a miniscule of the charm of this coastal city.

According to Hindu legends, the wedding between lord Shiva and Kanya Devi never got solemnized, turning the grains to stone and giving this coastal town its signature name. Its ironical that the land presided by the virgin deity is a honeymooner’s paradise. Indeed the mesmerizing waters heralded romance and adventure.  And with the clouds setting in we began our tumultuous boat ride to the majestic Vivekananda rock, where we paid homage to the devi and sat ruptured in the quaint meditation center. From a distance we could see the thundering silhouette of Thiruvallur. This definitely felt like heaven.

Kanyakumari also became our roadway to discovering our forefather’s deities. Our religious peregrination took us to the quaint towns of Tirunelveli and Valliyur. The journey was like a colorful postcard. We came across small villages and watched people in their simple existence. Thatched dwellings, myriad temples, and giant flock of farming animals greeted us travelers. Just as I was soaking in the flavors of rural India, I came across herculean windmills adorning the mountain retreats. So there it was: rural India had forged ahead with renewable energy. The old ways of the people had so effortlessly embraced the new world.

The journey to me was more fulfilling than the final destination. As we headed back home, I felt a strange calm. I discovered I could embrace changes with an open mind and cheerful disposition. And with a child like joy and vigor, I decided to explore my world.

India- The elixir of Life-First of the Two part series

Traversing Kerala

According to the Hindu mythology, lord Vishnu appeared as an enchantress who stole amrita: the elixir of life from the asuras, and passed it to the devas protecting their immortality. This legend in essence is the bane of my pining soul. Having crossed 8,438 miles in search of happiness and independence, I find my eternal elixir tucked away in this intriguing, and paradoxical nation- India. I have been fortunate enough to travel the lengths of this country at different times in my life. From the breathtaking peaks of the Himalayas in the North to the sangamam of the three seas in Kanyakumari in the Southern most tip, I have felt raptured and overwhelmed all at the same time.  Diversity is such an intrinsic fabric of the nation that sometimes one needs to stop and appreciate the scenes for they may go unnoticed. This is exactly what I did this vacation

Traveling from US to India via Abu Dhabi with my little one was no less than a herculean task. Yet the palpable tension seemed within bounds. Experience makes one wiser, and to me the mere four hour flight was a frivolous exercise in time. We landed in God’s own country, Kerala on sep 26,2010. It is a land still pristine thanks to the years of communist reign, which I might add could well be a blessing in disguise. The breathtaking greenery of Kerala is in a way an anti climax to the rest of the nation forging ahead at a breakneck speed.

My road trips here often led to the discovery of vast expanses of mystical lands wrapped in innumerable Hindu temples.  They were not merely places of worship but also immaculate structures of architectural delights. Tilting roofs paid homage to deities ensconced by brilliantly lit vellakus. In an ethereal setting, it was fascinating to hear the stories surrounding these surreal idols. Each of the temples deemed to have a specific purpose in life. And every tradition,ritual, practice reinforced the power of belief.  As the deities harbingered landmarks in our lives, I felt galvanized. That to me was an enthralling spiritual experience. And through the myriad visits to the holy places, I garnered my bonuses. My mantra was the enlightenment of the soul, which I got in ample doses.

An enlightened mind seeks a rejuvenated body, which led me to the discovery of Ayurvedic bliss in Kerala. There were plenty of ayur clinics to tantalize my palette. Alias my troubled limbs, I paid my perfunctory visit to one such centre. Nestled in a crowded by lane, it was a cocoon of sorts for me. In a no-fancy room, equipped with basic amenities, the massage was pure luxury. The use of medicated oils and the rhythmic massage moments rejuvenated my spirits. In the days to follow, my steps felt lighter and my mind chirpier.

I was also on the verge of making yet another cultural discovery: watching and understanding kathakali. Like everything else in Kerala, this masterpiece is shrouded in mystery and benightedness. It is not easy to find performances, let alone understand the nuances of this intricate art form. Finally I did get a taste of it from the Cochin art center. We were introduced briefly into this ancient art form. Backstage we witnessed the dancers slipping into their avatars. Make-up made of vegetable dyes was applied on their faces.  And literally these mortal men were transforming into something else. When we were finally introduced to the artists, they had metamorphosed into ethereal creatures. Donning mammoth costumes, the kathakali dancer rocked the stage. His intricate eyes moments; hand gestures and effortless dancing took me to an alternate world. In hindsight, it was mindboggling to think the years that these dancers must have taken to master this extreme art form.

Amidst the cultural regenesis, Kerala has given me an unforgettable treasure. I came to discover my lineage in yet another adventurous journey. I paid homage to my grandfather’s abode tucked away in the remote corner of Haripad.To my utter disbelief the house was as he had left it some six decades ago. I was fascinated to see the house my grandfather had lived throughout his childhood and adult years. This house that lay witness to the trails that my family went through, will firmly be etched in my memory. So here I was discovering Kerala in all her true colors. The trip summed up by boat rides on the still backwaters, visits to kovils, and discovery of ancient art forms has been an enriching learning experience. As I lay witness to the cultural resplendence of a city on the throngs of economic boom, I daresay Kerala truly is “God’s Own Country”

Dubai

Aerial views from Burj Khalifa

Dubai is a nation juxtaposed in imageries and ethnicities, a cultural melting pot where the east meets the west. To an independent observer it’s intriguing to watch the interactions between the different cultures; an ethos that is both organic and symbiotic in nature. Setting aside racial biases, it has truly been an enriching learning experience, one that began more than a decade ago for me. My father moved to the Middle East in the nineties, a period characterized by radical economic changes for India. The Indian economy had just opened up to globalization, and with the burgeoning aspirations of the middle class population, many were seeking the Arabian shores to start afresh.

For our family though it was a move predisposed by adversity. In hind sight it was a turning point of sorts in our lives. We were all of a sudden exposed to this vibrant culture that we knew little or nothing about. I vividly remember my first trip; I was wrought with apprehension and anxiety. But my fears melted away with time. Indeed I saw the peaceful co-existence of the different cultures, each maintaining their own individual identities and yet blending with the multi cultural fabric of the nation. In a way fashion and attitudes were also defined by these values. It was hardly strange to see Arab women draped in the trendiest abayas strutting confidently as did women in saris and salwar kameezes. Western stores like Zara, Mango, and Berksha displayed their western styles with élan as did the local Arabic, Indian and Pakistani stores. There was a cultural openness that seemed to welcome all. It therefore came as no surprise when we spotted a Hindu temple and gurudwara alongside a mosque, and quintessential churches adorning bustling streets. Secularity and plurality were the norms of the day.

The streets also had this old town, romantic feel to it. It was an enthralling experience as we watched traders hustling for wares in the ports, and spotted small colorful boats from all the corners of the world dock in the waters for the day. As one stepped out of the chaos, the gold souks were just around the corner. Gold and precious stones displayed ostensibly seemed failed to amaze me. Just when you thought you had seen it all, the water front cruises seemed to beckon you. A sunset cruise watching the Dubai skyline was definitely high priority for all. Huffing on the hookah, dancing with the belly dancers, and tasting the magnificent array of Middle Eastern cuisine, you could be transported to an heirloom. Alas for the adventurous, the desert safari was no less than an aphrodisiac. The Stomach churning ride only seemed to exemplify the thrills of Dubai. It seemed like the minority population was all set to woo the rest of the world with their open sprits and entrepreneurship.

I have seen Dubai undergo drastic changes over the years. From the peak of the economic boom, when construction and trade touched new heights, this region was the Atlantis of the world. Over the years, Dubai has paid a hefty price for the excesses, and as the global economy is going through a financial meltdown, it remains to be seen if Dubai will regain its international stature. But there is no doubt in my mind that Dubai will continue to remain the ever vibrant and dynamic capital of diverse cultures, and will always hold a special place in my heart.

First Time Parent Travelogue- Part II

Welcome friends to the much awaited sequel of my mega journey across the Americas to Asia. It was my first long peregrination with my baby much to the chagrin of my close friends. They had warned me of the perils that lay in store. Their warning was writ in black and white; I definitely had to be a glorified fool to be undertaking such a risky sojourn. Alas my mind ventured sky driving would be less risky than this misadventure. Yet my bubbling spirit egged me on, I had to try my luck and prove everyone wrong. So there I was staring at two mega suitcases, a carry on box, back pack, diaper bag, stroller, baby and praying wishfully to the lord. My mind was automatically flipping through the check lists, making notes, remembering the nooks and crannies of every tiny bit of details. I could be a super computer at this or maybe I was just a nervous wreck.

My husband stood next to rubbles I had created and smiled at me like never before. Maybe this would not be as bad as I had visualized. Packing my little one into her car seat we set out on a long 2.5 hr drive to the Airport. Everything seemed to be going as per plan. With my husband firmly by my side we breezed through the baggage check in. Hours went by in peaceful harmony and just as I was beginning to lapse into a beautiful daydream, it was time for the goodbyes. From this point on I was on my own.

Staring at my bags, baby and security check point all my enthusiasm wore down. I looked for the exits to no avail. So I diffidently proceeded forward. Passing through the security check point without much ado I looked for the departure gate and hurried on like my life depended on this. The wait was excruciating but at least my baby was fast asleep. Just as I launching into a yawn, the announcement came to begin the boarding. Startled and zealous I struggled forward with all my trappings. I looked around hoping for some friendly faces and all I could see was over anxious passengers and crew.

I realized I was definitely on my own now. In times of crisis its amazing how ambidextrous one can be. I was definitely a clown at the circus. I was juggling the baby, stroller and bags in what seemed like a herculean task to reach the flight. This was just the beginning. There was no time to even settle down lest the baby gets hungry. As I was fishing through the diaper bag, the flight attended brought a bag to me that vaguely resembled a shopping basket. This was what they called a bassinet (Baby bed) I shook my head in utter shock and disbelief. There was no way my baby would sleep in this let alone sit. As I began expressing my doubts the bassinet was taken away. Little did I know of the blunder I had committed mid air.

As the plane took off, my little one settled on me and slept. There I was already worn down by the baggage that my hand scarcely obliged. I looked around frantically for the flight attendant to ask for the shopping basket. Alas he had vanished into thin air. Minutes passed into hours and still there was no one in sight. Everyone on the flight lapsed into a peaceful slumber and there I was painfully glancing at my hands. My SOS call was finally answered after a two hour wait. Without further ado I popped my little princess into the shopping cart/bassinet. She just fit into it. There was no space to turn. My baby was famous for her 360 degree turns in her crib. How in the world would she manage in that enclosure? Miraculously she did, worn out as she was, she slept peacefully and I knew I was blessed.

I did count my blessings too soon for I realized that help was always late to reach. I felt like a lone rider in a humungous plane. Fending for myself and my baby I performed multiple tasks much to my amazement. Picking my baby, feeding her, entertaining her and all at once eating became second nature to me. In fact my baby would tag along with me for all my bathroom visits .It’s amazing how a little creativity can go a long way. The thirteen hour journey felt like a lifetime. I had learnt new tricks and became accomplished at multi tasking. As the flight landed I looked at my baby and flushed. I came to realize that when we step out of our comfort zone, life takes unexpected turns, and we turn out viewing things differently. I boarded the flight thinking that I would be treated special and realized that I was just a face in the crowd. Sometimes you just have to fight your battles alone which might not be that bad after all!

A Day In The Beach

Blue skies reflecting the sun on the white sands was by far the most gorgeous sight on a sweltering Sunday afternoon. Multi colored umbrellas blowing in the winds adorned the sandy beach. The pristine aquamarine water seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. The mood was festive. I could see people basking in the sun, playing ball and having fun. Little kids with buckets were making sand castles and trenches. There I was momentarily lost in their worlds. For a minute all the things I took for granted in life flashed before me as time stood still

Growing up, beach visits were a ritual in my life. Every vacation warranted a mandatory visit to the marina, the quintessential southern coastal waters of India. The trips were often characterized by cries of ecstasy from the kids and moans from the adults. The over zealous kids were often cramped into “The Ambassador-The Iconic Indian car" with all the adults squeezed into the gaps. The bumpy car ride seldom seemed to dampen our spirits. As we would head closer to the destination we would be glued to our windows. The car would screech to a halt and we would jump out with parents in tow. It was always pure joy as I can remember even today.

The sights, the smells, the people, the waters always captured our otherwise sultry drab summer days. The beach side food stalls would often entice us to no end. Grabbing the spiced pappads in one hand, molagu bajji’s in the other we would still salivate for more. With mouthfuls of spicy, tangy tastes we would rush to the foamy waters. These waters never change I would say to myself.

Huffing and puffing we would end our beach visit with the most delectable chat at the shoreline restaurant. Tired of all the eating and playing we would head home tired but blissful. The day would draw to a close with the adults assembled on the floor for a game of "Rummy-A game of cards" and the kids would snuggle up on the beds and talk about the fabulous day at the beach.

Eons later as I stood there on that sweltering sunday afternoon reminiscing my childhood memories I realized the ephemeral truths of life.This very planet that we live on is an ever evolving living organism.It needs protection and nourishment like everything else around us.We cannot take this gift of nature for granted.Who knows what tomorrow might have in store.As I played in the sands and watched the waves crashing on the shore, I acknowledge this truth and hope to capture this day forever in my beach memorabilia