And so said Karl Marx - or so they said!

I remember those days of my childhood and adolescence when communism was THE way of life . I remember being the 17 year old lass and her silence when she was told "Communists do not wear gold anklets. You cannot and should not have or wear one". I remember being the 18 year old girl and her agony when her college fee was equated to bribe as she had not won a merit seat. The girl finished her course in flying colours though and bagged a lucrative job as well. I remember being the 23 year old young woman and how she was pushed to the extent of feeling guilty for wanting a comparatively inexpensive wedding trousseau. Weddings were luxury, the feast was luxury, the trousseau was luxury, the euphoria was luxury - really? Did Karl Marx say all that? Register marriages were permissible. I had to fight my way then. I had had enough and possibly more. The water was over my head. I did blast the iron wall and settle away from this irrationality with the love of my life. Through all the things I had forgone, through all the things that seemed forbidden , "So said Karl Marx" was the mantra.

Since then, time has moved forward. I was out of the picture. I was a girl and was married off. Today, I have witnessed the overwhelming grandeur and extravaganza called weddings many times among siblings and cousins - coincidentally all boys. Today the boys of the family drive expensive cars and mo-bikes. I have seen them venturing into businesses, the rich spouses and their families frequently showering gifts at the drop of a hat. I have seen the in laws of the boys obliging every request and stepping in to solve all worries - be it raising the kid, be it a sticky financial situation. Suddenly, all things taboo were no more the same. All this while, I was away - always at a distance, managing time, space, job, home and baby - alone. I was a girl and was married OFF. I was too proud and my self respect would never ever allow asking for help. Karl Marx had said "to manage alone". I still carried the cross of communism. Coincidently, nobody ever asked whether there was something I needed. Probably, the high profile job that I seemed to have was reason enough not to be needy.

As I write this, I realize the red ink had sunk in deep into my soul alone. It had not even scratched the surface of any of my cousins or siblings. I am a proud woman today - no more submissive. So what if money won is twice as sweet as money earned? So what if it scares me to turn around, look back and realize I have not inherited even a speck of dust, everything is self made and anything else I need will also have to be self-made? So what if I have had nothing ready-made? So what if I alone had to toil hard to reach where I am? So what if I have understood that everyone else has had it way too easy? I still carry the legacy- the legacy of communism- burdensome at times. I still remember those days of childhood when grandpa used to tell me stories of his life, of his struggle for India's freedom, of his communist ideology and how I used to look upto him in awe. He is no more today, but I alone carry his legacy- for I alone have listened to him speak, grown up under his shade, seen him age and pass away. For all others, I am a girl and I am married off.

My Bangkok sojourn - 4

Continental Breakfast- toast,cereal,fruits,eggs- poached, fried, boiled, meat-bacon,hot dogs, pies, cakes, muffins, jams, marmalade, cream, juice, milk. Ashwin could eat a horse and I could eat a lot. Achu had bits and pieces of everything and I topped him with baby-food.


Slowly, but steadily, the rest of the group trickled into the hotel lobby. Ashwin and me heard stories from them about how it had taken 4 more hours after we had left the airport (to Ramada) for the Visa formalities of the whole group to complete. We had not waited for the whole process to complete and had left for the hotel as soon as our Visas were stamped and now, that turned out to be a wise decision. It had helped Achu in fitting in to this new milieu. When the entire group had gathered, the tour coordinator made his grand debut. We had met him once at the airport - he had made a short guest appearance then and had later been drowned in the Visa stamping exercise. Here he surfaced again. Like a shepherd, he gathered his flock of wide eyed, star struck [pun intended - Indians have wider eyes than Thai and Hotel Ramada is rated 4 star] tourists and led us to the travel guide.


Somporn was the man's name - the travel guide. He was of small stature - not very tall, slim, typical south-east Asian features; was native Thai and made that explicitly clear many times through our journey. There is nothing wrong in being proud of one's lineage. I could see his pride bubbling up when he said "I am a native of Thailand, not a Chinese immigrant". Pure breed! Class apart! I respect that! And then he reminded us it was lunch time already and we better fill ourselves up before we embark. It had been only a couple of hours since breakfast. None objected though! Somporn recommended an Indian restaurant - Curry Pot- for lunch. He said it would be good to walk till there for 2 reasons - (one) apparently, it was at a walking distance (two) we all would get a chance to explore the alleys and by lanes.


And so we walked till Curry Pot. It was hot. Achu was in the pram and soon I realised Bangkok was not pram- friendly. I had expected it to be more Melbourne-ish where you could use prams almost everywhere - on the broad footpaths lining every road, in the malls, in the shops, at train, bus and tram stations, in driveways and car parks. Prams were a very common sight and the city was built keeping them in mind. Bangkok was different - it was more Trivandrum-ish. The traffic was a mess, alleys were not well kept, weather was oppressing and people were not used to seeing babies in prams. Achu sat comfortably though - shaded from the sun and I managed to bring him safely to the restaurant. Curry pot was like one of those typical restaurants you find on any road in India. The strong stench of garam masala and its over use was enough to turn me off. I tried not to inhale and cut off my olfactory sense! I stepped in to find a real menagerie. Over crowded and unclean - it was a far cry from what Hotel Ramada had offered. I picked at the food, Ashwin got a Poori as takeaway for Achu, I prayed and hoped the deep frying process would have made the Poori germ-free and was glad to get out real soon. Ashwin hardly complains about anything, and never about food. This time, he too was dissatisfied.


Buses were waiting for us which was a welcome sight as it brought some respite to the heat. And off we went to see golden Buddha. Somporn did his job well. He kept us well informed about the history and geography of Thailand - told us how corrupt the government is and how people still respected the king, how long the full name of Thailand is, how the Chinese and other Asian immigrants sailed across the seas to reach Thailand for cultivation, how intertwined the cultures are and many other things. He made sure there was never a dull moment during the journey and took our minds away from the traffic and heat. The streets were all decorated - dragons and balloons - mostly in red hanging in front of every door and on every lamp post. Somporn pointed at them and said "The Chinese new year is 2 days away".


Bangkok is a city of temples - Buddhist temples. The more temples built, more good fortune arrives - so people say. Every king has built a new temple during his reign. The Golden Buddha proved to be an astounding sight - built of gold. It was massive, enormous yet, was not intimidating in the least bit. There seemed to be an aura around the statue showering serenity. I wished to remain in the temple for a very long time and could feel myself basking in a strange glow- the glow of all things pure. Ironical how something so seemingly extravagant could be the epitome of tranquility. How the cool marble floor in the shrine and the fragrance of incense contradicted the weather outside! The holy chamber offered silence - nothing more, nothing less!. Golden Buddha sat in there looking out at the world - ardently praying devotees - some silent, some sobbing out their fears and insecurities; tourists, photographers, vendors and all.


We walked out - took some snaps, complained about how hot the weather was while Achu played with a giant bell outside the shrine. Then we walked around, commented on the sights, took some more snaps, bought some curios and knick knacks ( I realised that bargaining works really well in Bangkok). I also got a Buddhist monk to pose for a photo with us. Then we got onto the bus and moved to our next destination - the reclining Buddha. Yes, another temple. Ashwin was not too keen about these temple visits. I preferred to move with the group though. But then life is not meant to be easy dearies! Our bus broke down - in the midst of the traffic, on a market street. Not new to us I know- we being Indians! The driver made a most sincere effort to fix whatever was wrong. But the buggy would not budge. And so, we had to wait for a considerable amount of time, till the next pick up came along. Thankfully, the next destination was close by and we did not have much of a ride left. When patience wore out, we - our group- decided to get off the bus and slowly move to see the reclining Buddha. That was when we spotted the insect stand! Bugs, worms, crickets, cockroaches - all roasted or deep fried! - Chinese delicacy. I redefined food with Somporn's help -"The Chinese eat anything other than the table".


Soon, the other bus arrived. That is where we met our next travel guide. I cant recollect her name - it was not an easy one. I remember she was 57 and her wedding ring had rubies and diamonds on it. She was a pleasant lady with southeast Asian looks- short, straight hair and little eyes! And she took us to see the next temple. Reclining Buddha was huge - possibly bigger than the Golden Buddha. The temple was more lavishly decorated than the previous one. Chinese paintings / calligraphy adorned the walls throughout. This was a photographer's dream.
We took some snaps (I found it overwhelming and Achu was being cranky in there) and walked out on to the courtyard surrounding the main shrine. The courtyard was huge and looked as though a whole township was built upon it. There were ancient buildings everywhere, of typical Chinese architecture - complete with the curvy,pointed, slanting roofs and all.


Achu's patience was at the lowest lows and we had to constantly bribe him with toffees! And so I was happy when we finally wrapped up the day's sight seeing. It was getting dark and on the way back to the hotel, Achu fell asleep again. I sat in the bus looking out. Bangkok was beautiful at night. The streets were all marked by flower and fruit stalls (Fruits and flowers were abundant here - thanks to the tropical climate. ). The flower market was buzzing as the next day was Valentine's day. Girls and boys hurriedly picking up bunches and bouquets of red roses - the scene bought a big smile on my lips. Love makes the world go around!


I was amazed by the amount of fruits Thai people consume. Surely, we Indians do not intake even half as much. Thai girls skip dinner and have only fruits at night. The girls are extremely weight conscious as a slim-trim figure is a must to gain a suitable beau. Also, the Thai do not eat 4 sumptuous meals like us in India. Instead, they have 6- 7 small meals. As Somporn said "The Thai are always eating". That explained why there seemed to be an overdose of eateries of all sorts allover. Now we know the diet secrets of South east Asians and how they maintain themselves! Somporn had a great sense of humor. He warned our group not to look for prospective brides in Bangkok and the reason being- the girls in Bangkok do not know to cook. "Buying from outside and take aways" were the mantras. They all leave for work in the morning and have breakfast on the way, have a working lunch and buy dinner on their way back home! Not a very healthy practice for sure! Also, there was another reason why so many Thai men are still unmarried - so said Somporn. In Thailand, the groom has to pay the bride dowry. He needs to provide a huge, expensive wedding ring and other materialistic pleasures to the bride. No wonder many Thai men being poor were left out of the pleasures and pressures of wedlock! I found this reverse dowry quite sensible. It sounded far more logical than the social evil among majority of India. Let us not dwell upon that now. The great Indian culture is overburdened with the great Indian hypocrisy as far as I am concerned. Period.


And so we reached our hotel - the travel guides said "ta, till we meet the next day" and announced we could go shopping if we wished. Bangkok was a shoppers paradise, a lady's dream - as per them. We were totally drained out and tired with a capital T. Yet I could not resist the temptation to indulge. So we went up to the room, had quick showers, waited for Achu to wake up and gave him a shower after that. Ashwin and me did not take much time in ruling out Curry pot for dinner. Instead, we tried one of the plush restaurants that Ramada offered. That was one great experience - though we had trouble of keeping our toddler from breaking the cutlery. The food and the drinks were all too good. Achu had a great meal with Chicken and Chips and a whole big glass of chilled water melon juice. The mother in me froze at the sight of ice cubes in the glass and I worried about his tonsils. Ashwin on the other hand was teaching Achu to use a straw. A mom can never be a dad and a dad can never be a mom. Achu found it more amusing to blow bubbles into the juice through the straw than sip it up. Thankfully, nothing went wrong.

And then, we went for a look around and do some shopping. We walked around a bit, bagged a few good bargains and got back to our room. Achu made a scene and tried not to sleep for a while. After a round of scolding, wailing, reassuring and pacifying, he finally gave in when Ashwin took him down to the lobby again and had a father-son chat session. I did not sleep too well that night either - that has been happening to me lately- when I am too tired, even sleep keeps shying away. It was better than the previous night though and I did sleep soundly for 4 hours or so. And so we woke up the next morning for the rest of the sight seeing - all of us- fresh as a daisy. Its incredible how a couple of hours in slumberland can take away tonnes of fatigue. I was feeling quite happy and looked forward to the day!

Shaky Pedestals

As a kid, I have idolised a lot of people - friends, teachers, acquaintances, family, celebrities! I am sure so have you. All of us do.

I have adored them, looked upto them in awe. I have loved them with all my heart, treated them with all due respect, whole heartedly learnt the lessons of life from their experiences, channelled my decisions based on their advises, built a world of my own with them as foundations. I had placed them on pedestals.

As I wade through my routine, trying to make way, reality bites! My idols are humans. Their divine attributes have withered away with time. When I say human, it is not in a derogatory sense, but in an ordinary sense - a concoction of positive and negative attributes - love, generosity, care, selflessness, jealousy, greed, callousness, lust ! Time and again, these concoctions precipitate any one of these attributes. As an adult, I have seen the negative emotions in my idols even! It was traumatising, painful- it threatened the very foundations of my moral sense. My idols were not supposed to err! But they did! My idols were human after all.
A precipitate that makes its appearance very often is "envy". I have seen its ugly green hue stain the white souls of my idols many a time - when they deliberately forgot to compliment someone on their exquisite new piece of jewellery, when they conveniently missed enquiring about the well being of a young relative on a business trip overseas, when they cut off casual queries with rude remarks, when they refused to join in and co-operate, when they opted to sit aloof and disinterested, when they pointed fingers for the sake of doing so, when they talked behind people's back, when they accused wrongly, when they sniggered and forgot to smile, when they smirked and forgot to empathise, when they refused to help subtly, when they disregarded the obvious, when they set their priorities incorrectly.

Today, my pedestals are all shaky. The grumble of baseless foundations trying to hold their stance to evade the eventuality of coming down altogether is a sight difficult to digest. A part of me wants to look up to the idols still and cant bear having to looking down on them. I look away most of the time. Unfortunately, some of them have already fallen apart, shattered and scattered all over the ground. I have to learn to look them in the eye, see eye to eye and make amends. I guess its all a part of growing up.

Walking back

Some things get etched in one's memory - like an adamant tattoo that refuses to disappear. The details may fade, but it remains.

Ashwin, my hubby, was on his way to Chicago - a short business trip. It was 12:30 in the night and I walked him to the cab, luggage and all. Cabbie loaded the bags into the boot and Ashwin said he would leave once I went back home - two reasons- one, it was late and dark and him leaving me alone at the gate was uncomfortable. Secondly, it would be easier on both of us and help to avoid the mushy adieu scenes which would apparently take place. So we bid good bye once again and I walked back to our lift, to our apartment on the fourth floor. I did not turn back. Turning back would have been overwhelming. And as I walked, the comforting summer breeze brought some respite, to the heat inside and out. Together with it, it brought a rush of memories as well.

My mind rolled back to the time when Ashwin had left for Melbourne, 5 years ago. It was the first time he was going abroad. We had been married for an year then- young, immature and naive. I was 24, he 25. I had accompanied him to the airport. It was a small airport at Begumpet then, at the centre of the city, in the midst of all the traffic; Not the opulent international terminal that Hyderabad boasts of today (Rajiv Gandhi international was yet to be constructed).The flight was during daytime. We both were very teary eyed. When he finally left, I felt lost, in all senses. I had walked back to catch an auto, my head drooping down to hide the uncontrollable tears from the crowd. A strange pain tugged at my heart. [Would like to quote a dialogue from "My name is Khan" - "I felt a strange pain when I left you Mandira. I thought it was gas. I even tried ginger tea hoping to find some relief. The pain did not go away though." ] I had prayed for Ashwin to return fast. That was all I wanted, all I wished for, all I could think of. I had got into an auto and mumbled something totally incoherent to the driver - our address - simultaneously trying to suppress my sobs. I was going back to an empty home and would be alone for a whole month - the thought was unbearable - love does strange things to you. The auto driver was a wise man. He somehow figured where I wanted to be dropped. The moment I had reached home and opened the door, I had run inside and cried my heart out for a long time. Not sure for how long.

Time had flown. 5 years later, he was leaving again, without me - to Chicago - for a month. This time when I walked back, it was different. I was a grown woman. I knew my man would come back in a month's time and he had to make this trip - duty calls. I walked fast. My two year toddler was sleeping alone in our bedroom. My pace sped up when I thought of him waking up in the dark and looking for me. I also thought of my parents in the other room, who had aged considerably in the last few years. They had come for a short visit and were leaving the next day. They needed to go back - to their home, to their zone, to their doctors, to their domestic help. I thought of the trip I would be making to my native place the next day ( Achu and me staying alone in Hyderabad without Ashwin was difficult and it was time I had a break) with my aging parents and my baby. I prayed for it all to go well and that no one would fall ill till we reached there. That was all I could think of, all I wanted then, at that moment.Priorities change, thoughts change, needs change, prayers change - with time. Change is good. Recently a friend said - "If nothing ever changed, there would be no butterflies." .

Today as I write this, I wish for my man to be back soon. My baby keeps telling me he wants to go back home. For him, home is where his mom and dad are. We need to go back to our lives, to our togetherness. But now, today , it is my break. And it is quite pleasant here at Trivandrum, the place where I grew up. One cant complain much when one's granny is still around, fussing over oneself as though one were a baby. Cheers!

My Bangkok sojourn - 3

In the few moments when I struggled to keep my eyes open during the drive to the hotel, I tried to assimilate as much of Bangkok as could be managed. Surely, the city view did bring back memories - of Melbourne. Green signposts on the roads displaying distances between places, accurately positioned yellow alert boards, picturesque landscaping on the road sides, massive flyovers criss-crossing each other, perfectly spaced speed breakers, tollways, freeways and highways, and lastly, the disciplined traffic. Building roads must be an art anywhere else in the world, other than India. So much of planning, teamwork and hard work must be going into creating such state of the art roadways. The roads definitely seemed to proclaim about the international standards of Bangkok. I was not ready to be taken in by the roads merely (probably due to the airhostess- policeman hypothesis) and deliberately suspended myself from forming prognoses, opinions and verdicts.

A huge billboard of a dragon put an end to my comparisons between Bangkok- Melbourne- Hyderabad. The dragon brought me back to Asia, to Bangkok and to the cab. A large majority of the population of Thailand is originally Chinese, as our travel guide told us later during the day. They had arrived there for trade and business a century or so ago; and then decided to settle in Thailand for good. The native Thai call the immigrants Thainese. The cultures are interlinked and so is the architecture. Thai buildings bear Chinese signatures - the horned slating roofs, open courtyards, massive gateways guarded by lions, dragons or gate keepers of some mystical kind. The doors, windows, gates and roofs -all heavily ornamented with intricate sculpting, carpentry and scripting. The architecture uses a lot of colour - I found all the buildings quite colourful - gold, red and green stood out prominently on the roofs and doors! The smooth one hour drive from the airport was interjected by my musings and our catnaps, not potholes or bumps. Hotel Ramada is modern, chic, classy and sophisticated. The interiors were ultra glam - all surfaces polished to shine like new, impeccably clean dust-free carpets, fresh flowers in vases all over - spick and span (i am a neatness freak and Ashwin thinks I could be a borderline OCD - obsessive compulsive disorder- case). The hotel stood up for its star rated reputation complete with high speed lifts, crystals and chandeliers, soft background music, trickling fountains, swimming pools, multiple restaurants serving cuisines from all over the globe. I was happy, Ashwin was happy, anybody would be happy, Achu was sleeping. We paid our taxi driver - charge + tip - and walked into opulence.

The Thai receptionist said hello - not a friendly one as per Indian standards, they don't smile much ! Ashwin, my dear tired hubby, got on to the necessary formalities of checking in and I had a look around. I was in the midst of self examination ( there was a mirror close by that seemed to run from roof to floor) when a racket caught my attention. Two white people - a lady and a man - were complaining to the hotel staff about how shocked they were to find their room's door wide open (which they had locked securely) upon returning from an outing. The lady was apparently more distressed - she was doing most of the talking. Her words came out fast and furious. The man was more at peace with himself, as though he had just had a good sumptuous lunch - ever noticed how food seems to act as a tranquilizer in most situations? The lady was trying to be patient and explaining her concerns to the staff about how nervous she felt and how unreliable the whole system seemed to be! It was the expression of the staff that left us nonplussed. They did not offer an explanation of any sort - not even a word of reassurance or an apology. They drew a blank. A few minutes more and the lady was quiet. She was tired, perplexed and disappointed. I was feeling sorry for them, but found this whole situation hilarious. Then it dawned on me - the staff simply did not speak English! Most of the Asian countries do not have an English speaking population. Annoying! , works as a boon for India though. Indians are good at English and hence the rest of the world prefers to do business with us (Be aware dearies, the day is not far when they would catch up with us. I hear China is making good progress!). And then when one sits back and thinks about it, there could be another reason as well. One needs a free spirit to tell words such as "sorry, please and thank you". The extremely patriarchal society of majority of Asia leaves its men too egoistic to own up their mistakes and its women too submissive to speak up. You, the metro sexual, cosmopolitan you, may refute.I hold my point though. This is the social incompetence that prevails in Indian towns and villages. I have seen it in India, I have seen it in Thailand!

On our way to the lift and to our room, we walked passed the lady and the man. She sat there looking down, as though over burdened by the unfamiliar nonchalance shown by the hotel staff. My heart went out to her. How I wished to reassure her, tell her its not all that bad as nothing had gone missing and the door must have been opened for routine service! I looked around desperately, hoping to find a magic potion. That was when I spotted the bell boy accompanying us. He was doing his job of pushing the baggage trolley and leading the way. I caught his attention and he slightly raised his eyebrows as though saying "what?". I pounced upon the chance, pointed at my watch and mimed "how much" with my hands. He smiled and said " 9:30", heavily accented, but 9:30 it was, Bangkok local time. My disappointed lady friend saw our conversation and looked at me. I nodded at her, she nodded back and smiled as though my little spoof had made sense. My message was conveyed - it is better to use more of your hands and less of your tongue when you are in an alien land where your native language is not spoken. I was happy that she was smiling and she seemed happy about the "bell boy - me" talk ( if you can call it that).

The lift was card driven. Cards - this piece of plastic- has revolutionised the way we operate. From billing counters at departmental stores where they ask you "Paper or plastic" (meaning whether the payment will be done in cash or credit- explanation for the uninitiated), to insurance cards in hospitals where they swipe the thing and say "All your angioplasty bills are cleared, you are discharged. You can go home", cards are a way of life. Hotel Ramada runs on cards. We were given a card to our room (not a key!) while checking in. The bell boy plugged it into the little slot in the lift and pressed 9. Like Aladin's carpet, the high speed elevator zoomed past floors and in seconds quietly opened its doors to the ninth floor, waited till we all got out and then slowly closed its doors and went on to some other floor - no sound, no noise, no brakes, no jerks - very lady like. 10 years ago, this would have been science fiction! Ashwin and me exchanged a "WOW" with our eyes. The bell boy took us ( baggage and personal) to our room, opened the door with the card and plugged the card again into a slot in the room. Viola, lights on. Not new, we are all used to remote controls and sonic controls, still I say Viola! Just so that we remind ourselves how lucky we are - there is magic in our lives!

The room was comfortable and fully equipped - the moment I stepped in, a sense of relief flooded over me. I felt at home - the room seemed to be offering warmth, shelter,friendliness- and I took it all in. We thanked the bell boy and I finally put our sleeping Achu down on one of the beds - the room had 2 beds - one single and one double (one for the dad; and one for mom and baby - that would have been the idea). Ah! the soft velvety feel of the mattress and the quilt ! Achu had been sleeping since the time we boarded - straight 7 hours, that was a good sign - they say babies do not sleep if they are even slightly uncomfortable. That done, I glanced around the room, flipped through the brochures, peeped into the fridge/ mini bar and headed straight for the shower. One look at the plush bathroom and I had to have a shower. It looked so clean and smelt so good. And I have always loved the little bottles of body soap, shampoo and conditioners that these hotels provide. I had to try them out! I yelled out to Ashwin about me getting into the shower and spent a good 15 minutes in there. Very relaxing, very refreshing. Then I came out and it was Ashwin's turn. We both showered and then decided to try and have some rest. We had a quick nap - not deep slumber- the thought of the complimentary continental breakfast waiting for us was lingering in our minds. At around 10:30, Achu woke up and as always, he promptly woke us up as well. He gave me a look as if to say "where am I" and then looked around and was happy. This was our happy room! Kids fit in so easily. I took him to the shower and he had a swell time in the bathtub. I had trouble dragging him out of there to get him dressed. Finally, we went down for breakfast.

My Bangkok sojourn - 2

The staff on the plane were extremely cordial. They did their best to make life easier for us - gave us the front seat which had lots of leg room (not that it made any difference to me, as my legs are not all that long!) , left two seats next to us vacant - so we got 4 seats to use though we were only 2 adults and one infant (any kid below 2 years is an infant as per airline standards), gave us extra pillows and blankets; and came running to us every now and then to see if we needed anything. All that because we had Achu with us - babies are always precious and you get to see that statement put into action when you are on a plane! So far so good.

The flight took off at 11:30 PM IST. Travel time was approximately 3 and half hours. So it would be about 3:00 AM IST when we would reach Bangkok. But Bangkok is 2 and half hours ahead of us in time. So that would be 5:30 AM their time when we land. Ashwin and me did the Math . We settled down on our seats. Few minutes later, Achu fell asleep on Ashwin. We reclined our seats to the maximum trying to find a comfortable position. And then throughout the night flight, we took turns carrying our little fellow. Ashwin managed to doze off in between. Me on the other hand was a bit hassled. Reason - I cant sleep on airplanes. Let alone airplanes, I cant sleep on any mode of transport. Its as though my brain switches to a travel mode, triggers alert signals at regular intervals and fails to go on auto-pilot! I didnt care much though! Having been through baby sitting 24x7, sleeplessness was not new to me. Also, I knew I would not be alone and most passengers would not have slept well on a short night flight. It goes like this, by the time one convinces oneself and decides to switch off, the pilot says " wakey wakey sunshine", which makes one jump out of the seat (possibly tearing the seat covers and the seat belt). Achu was still asleep on my shoulder when we landed. The sun was just rising. ON Time - 5:30 AM Bangkok Time.

The first thing we did after exiting the plane was getting back our pram. It doubled up as a bed for our Achu. And then, we had to get our tourist Visa stamped. For odd reasons, countries come up with wierd rules - the visa was not already stamped on our passports before we left India. Short visit visas have to be stamped on arrival and yes, they call it "Visa on Arrival". Some other interesting facts are :

1.Citizens from most of Europe, UK, Australia and US are exempted from this ordeal. 2.Chromatically white is a shade fairer than Black. 3.Monetarily Euro and Dollar are valuable than the rest.

Visa stamping turned out to be an unpleasant, long procedure. There was an endless queue, forms to be filled and arrogant, ill-mannered Thai policemen to tackle. A word of caution dearies - 'An airhostess is not a microcosm of her native culture, a policeman is. Airhostesses are trained and groomed to put their best face forward. A policeman deals with raw life of his country day after day. So wherever you travel, do not be taken in by the airhostess's smile. Look out for the policeman'. The Thai policemen taught me what to expect in the couple of days to come. The truth was bare before my eyes. Bangkok is a land in South East Asia, hugely dependent on Farming for revenue. And as a result, you will find people always in a race to make ends meet - in the process they scream, they shout blatantly. Much like Indians, they too are a noisy crowd. The difference -Indians smile a lot. A smile is mostly returned in India, not so in Thailand, they do not smile much. This was new to me. I had been to Australia and was sort of used to the extremely polite and frank disposition. Australia had taught me to say 'Please, Thank you and Sorry' a lot, to shed my Indian inhibitions, to break all chains that restrain, to be passionate, to take it easy, to let go, to lay back and watch the world go by, to say what you mean and to do what you say, to live life to the fullest! That's another story! I wondered what Thailand had in store for me.

Ashwin stood in the queue while me after waiting for a while, took a seat in the nearby line of chairs. Slowly but steadily, the queue moved forward. Achu had woken up in the midst of this menagerie and after taking a look at all the choas, fell asleep again (as though he had realised sleeping is the best resort to keep this mad world at bay). I took him out of the pram and sat there carrying him, taking in all the confusion. I could see people running around to get forms and fill them up, people at the end of the queue trying to get a peak at what was happening in front, people in the front eagerly waiting for their token number to be called, people from lucky countries (which are exempted from Visa stamping) being reassured that they do not have to get this done, the Thai passport officers verifying documents and speaking in broken English. The most amusing part of it was the Thai policeman (ah, here he comes again) screaming and trying to control a queue of exhausted, weary tourists waiting for the permission to see his country. At one point he even threatened to suspend the process if anyone stepped away from the straight line which had been marked out. Lines, demarcation, boundaries, walls, limits,territory, trespassing, invasion, war, death, hope, rebuild, discuss, decide, draft, agree, redraw, line - It all starts from a line, a simple directionless scalar segment that connects two points- sickening, isin't it?

It took us two hours to get out of the Airport after landing. Visa on arrival was definitely a bugbear. We did not wait (could wait no more) for the rest of the group to join us, collected our baggage which had been checked in, got the immigration clearance, and took a taxi. I had dropped the baggage buggy over the travelator while rushing to get there and then a Thai airport officer helped me with it. That is when I saw a Thai smile for the first time (disregarding the airhostess)! Its not as open and prolonged as the Indian smile, its a twitch of the lips for a split second. You have to be there at the moment to catch it. I caught one! Once into the taxi, I tried asking the driver about the distance to the hotel. The poor guy knew no English and did not get what I was trying to say at all. I even tried acting it out. He gave me a wierd look and Ashwin asked me to give up. I gave up, kissed Achu who was blissfully asleep on my shoulders, closed one eye to catch sleep, kept the other eye open to draw in as much scenery as possible and relaxed. The roads were world class (not bumpy like our Indian ones), the driving was good, the air-con in the cab was on and I finally had a nap! All of us slept, apart from the driver of course till we reached our destination - Hotel Ramada!

My Bangkok sojourn - 1

This was the trip that we had been looking forward to for a long time. We had been wanting to go away for a while and were badly in need of a detour from our routine. Though when the day of travel finally arrived, I was not feeling as delighted as I should have been, rather was apprehensive, skeptical. Call it maternal instinct, call it fear of the unknown. Bottom line is I was scared. This was the first time we were travelling abroad with Achu and by any standards Achu was still a baby who had to be fed and looked after all through the day. And another thing that was nagging me was I knew this trip would be a mad race! That said, it was as if my worst fears were confirmed when Achu decided to throw up all the milk in his tummy an hour or so before takeoff. My face automatically assumed a quizzical expression and I looked at Ashwin, my hubby. I could see he was as tensed as I was. He knew that we had to make a call - whether to check out the luggage and go home or to get on the plane and fly away. He was the man and he decided- "Lets face the music, we are flying come what may". I kept humming - "aaall izzz well".


The airport staff were good; asked us not to bother and assured they would clean up the mess! We thanked them (from the bottom of our heart). I picked up Achu; Ashwin picked up the hand baggage and we marched forward! ( I say "marched" to reflect the state of our minds - we were prepared to overcome any hurdle to make this trip - even a possibly sick toddler!) . Miraculously, the further we walked towards the boarding gate, the situation seemed more and more light. We could see ourselves smiling at each other and every one else. And all of them were smiling back too, giving each other friendly nodes, uttering little hellos, thank-yous and the like ... Looked like the hand baggage buggy which Ashwin was pushing was acting like some magical tool capable of cutting through the fog of doubt and letting the sun shine through.

And so, with smiley faces and unburdened minds, we went over to greet and meet our fellow tourists. We were travelling as a group - a group of fortunate people upon whom lady luck had showered her blessings. Its not everyday that one wins a lottery and that too something as exciting as a foreign tour. Ashwin and me could not believe it at first. Yet it did happen - for the first time in our lives! We were ecstatic! and thats how all this came about. Going back to our group - they were all warm and friendly; and I was very much relieved to meet an older lady (from Kerala). I instantly poured out all my worries about taking Achu along to her. She turned out to be a keen listener and a dependable companion. My faith in humanity returned!

All our group mates were married couples - just married, been married for a while, married for long or married for too long! Only one of them , other than us had brought their child with them. The rest had kids who were either too grown up or had been put into temporary custody of grandparents! So our little bundle of joy (rather bundle of energy) was left to bond with the only other child- a 10 year old girl. It often amazes me -how uninhibited children are - never restrianed by the adulterations of adulthood! The girl and the boy got along from the moment they said hello. It was fun to see a 10 year old girl chasing a 1 and half year old boy all over Rajiv Gandhi International Airport, Hyderabad. I had to step in a couple of times to avoid "Dennis the menace" situations. I feel that we all are born as fully bloomed flowers and close into buds as we age, not the other way around. Oh yes, there are people who remain as open flowers throughout their lives - its purely a matter of choice, whether you want to close out and pass away as a bud or be a flower. Oops! sorry for wandering away from my narration! Lets get back to the point. So we were a group of of about 14 adults laughing and sharing anecdotes, experiences and concerns; and two kids running around them. Pretty picture!

After chatting for about half an hour or so, we moved to the boarding gate - gate no 32 B, if I remember it right. Took photos of our little group, laughed more at few little jokes someone cracked while we waited for the announcement. Achu hates queues and waiting. So he decided to amuse himself by playing with straws from a coffee bar next to us. One senior person in the group was elected our informal leader. He was a nice and funny man- someone with lot of soft spots caused by dents and weathering due to age and experience. And then they announced - "All passengers flying to Bangkok please be ready to board flight no abcd (cant remember the no) of Thai Airways". I believe some people in our group were flying for the first time and the special twinkle in their eyes (that I had noticed) sparkled even more. I smiled.

At the end of the aerobridge, we had to give up Achu's pram ( i was happy that prams are allowed till the door of the aircraft) to check in as extra luggage. We were greeted by a Thai airhostess at the door. As expected, she was all smiles,tall, slim, pretty in the Thai way, wore traditional Thai costume (a long ankle length pencil skirt or sarong, a waist long blouse with three-fourth sleeves and a narrow strip of cloth pinned across the chest from left shoulder to right hip). Also, she wore a brooch made of the typical white and violet orchids of Thailand. And she greeted us with hands folded in the namaste manner and said "Sawaadika" or so in an extremely nasal voice. Ashwin reckons it sounds like a crow crying! We smiled, said hello and walked in.

Outlaws?

Experiences make you wiser, leave you stronger.
This post asks more questions and does not entertain the reader with anecdotes.
Some days are washouts, arent they?
And on such days, you get to deal with people who revel upon hurting others - subtle insults, rude remarks, mean looks, on the whole make you totally uncomfortable. You can literally feel the cushion on your seat shift away leaving a thorny,cold pricking sensation on your arse, making you want to run. Then, you realise how beautiful the rest of the days in your life are when you do not have to face such demons. Look around and you realise such people are everywhere- slime slime everywhere. The world needs heavy duty cleansing. Doesnt it?

Such people are what you would call outlaws.
The question arises now - what if such outlaws are your inlaws?
Whoever, coined the word inlaws had a great sense of social responsibility and was trying to probably rehabilitate the outlaws. Well done musketeer! You have succeeded. Such obnoxious behavior can be tolerated in the name of family ties.

Look at the brighter side - inlaws being outlaws is far better than having a boss who is an outlaw. After all, you do not see your inlaws everyday; on the other hand your boss is a routine.

Fellowmen, let me tell you - outlaws are there in everyones life; so nothing can be done about that. Learn to ignore the noise and dance to the music. It will be a pleasant journey.