Fall in Vancouver...

September is almost here... the unofficial end of summer, and the beginning of fall. I used to absolutely DREAD this time of year in grade school, as it meant the end of holidays, sleeping in, and playing around all day. When I came to university, it started to matter less and less, as I usually used to work in the summers, and then when I came to grad school, then I had to work year around as a research assistant anyway...

Strangely, I started to appreciate the fall season more and more, after I got over the fear of the 'first day back to school'. Why? There are many reasons... firstly, I think Vancouver looks absolutely beautiful in the fall. The leaves begin to change color, and the weather usually stays fairly decent; minimal rain/no snow, so that you can still go out for a brisk walk and appreciate everything. Secondly, it is the Indian festival season. Now of course, it is celebrated here a fraction of how it would be celebrated in India, but it is still nice to see everyone with smiles on their faces, it gives friends and relatives an excuse to get back in touch and wish each other the best, and finally, most importantly, my mom goes into the kitchen and makes up some delicious sweets and snacks that we eagerly await year around. :P

Last year I wasn't able to appreciate the fall that much, as I was busy with alot of things going on in life... this year however, I plan to enjoy all out, and of course, since I am the UTSAV VP this year, there is the added bonus of helping to organize and then partying like crazy at Deepmala this year... hope everyone can join me!

Biker Boy

I bought a new bicycle a few months ago. Was inspired after I finally went and biked the Lions Gate Bridge/Seawall back in the spring (yes, I have lived in Vancouver my entire life, and didn't bike the Seawall till now...) Besides, it seems to be the IN thing to do these days, and I got a really good deal. It was a second hand bike, bought from a Chinese guy who I think was dealing in stolen bikes, but hey, a deal is a deal right? Only $30, plus a new helmet, lock and waterbottle holder, ended up costing me $60 in total.

Bike riding in North America is definitely not as popular as most other places in the world. I have seen pictures of streets filled with bikes in China, and one thing that really impressed me about Europe is how people prefer to get out of their cars, and take their bicycles, or public transit. It is definately a nice convinience, and lets you go a bit further/faster than if you were just travelling around on foot.

Its nice to be able to zip around campus on my bike, but I can't help but be reminded about how much fun it was to ride bikes when I was younger. Back then gaming consoles were too expensive, so we actually used to go outdoors and stay active in the summers. Games like 'Cops and Robbers', or 'Hide and Seek' in the forest behind our house were quite standard, and then there was the manditory daily road hockey game between the kids from one end of the street, against the kids from the other end of the street, which only ended when it got too dark, or somebody got hit in the head with the ball and started crying.

And of course, we all had our own bikes... ah... our bikes. Although I doubt any of us ever went faster than 10 km/hr, to us, we felt like speed demons, going not less than 120 clicks. My first bike was actually a bit bigger than I was. I was 5 years old, and my parents bought me a second hand yellow Schwinn, with the old style foot brakes. For the first few months, I pedelled around with training wheels until one day when dad decided that enough was enough, and he took them off, took me to the field at the back of our house, so that even if I fell off, at least it would be on grass, and told me to start pedelling. Thankfully, all went well, and I didn't fall, although convincing me to stop was a bit of a challenge, since I was petrified that if I stopped moving I would take a tumble.

Of course we all took our share of spills... I think all of our mothers had purchased the mandatory Dettol bottles to clean off all the cuts and scratches we sustained, and of course had those perfectly shaped bandages which covered up the skinned and scrapped knees, and road burnt elbows which were pretty much a weekly occurance. My most spectacular crash happened to be when I managed to run head on into a parked car and ended up sprawled over the front windshield. Not exactly my finest moment...

What did we do on our bikes? Well, of course, there were the street races... at first from one end of the street to the other. Then, when we were a bit older, around the block. And then, finally, when we gained enough stamina, the races became all the way around the neighborhood. One of our biggest accomplishments was the construction of a ramp we used to go airborne on our bikes and pretend like we were Tony Hawk, when in reality, I doubt we got more than 2 ft off the ground. When we finally started getting a bit of pocket money from our parents, we would sneak off on our bikes and spend $0.50 on an Ice Cream from McDonalds, or a Slurpee from 7-11. We felt like kings.

Well, Ice Creams/Slurpees cost more than $0.50 now... our old biker gang has disbanded, and since I can drive, when I am home, I kind of prefer that means conveyance these days. These days, its just me, alone on my bike using it to go around campus, usually to the office, or SRC. Once in a while, I will take it a bit further, maybe to Broadway to have dinner, or down to the beach to watch the sunset. I may have grown up (well, physically at least), but every so often, its nice to be able to ride my bike, and pretend like I am 5 years old all over again...

Back to the Future?

Its time… its time to go back and put myself through unnecessary torture… its time to head back… to the gym.

It was recently pointed out to me by a ‘family member’ ;), that all the good work I had done this year by going to the gym has basically been undone in the past few months. I had gotten a bit side tracked over the past three months, and especially with all the travelling, I just gave up on going to the gym. Now, the love handles are making a slight return, and the shoulder pimples/biceps which had developed have receeded back to where they came from…

I used to be in excellent shape. In fact, I am still in very decent shape, but not in the phenomenal condition I once was. 6 years of my life were dedicated to the martial arts. Furthermore, I am proud to say that I trained at one of the finest schools on the West Coast, where Black Belts were not handed out as party favors. I was a different person back then… unbelievably disciplined, and my life basically revolved around two things… undergrad, and training. Why did I do it? Well, because I loved it… as sadistic as it sounds, there is an indescribable pride which you gain from pounding on someone, and then being able to get up after taking a heavier pounding. Most people think that we do it to be able to show off… to throw some ‘Bruce Lee’ style kicks, when in reality this is not the case at all. The mental strength one develops from training in the martial arts is unparalleled. Only by getting humiliated and being pushed to your physical limits in the dojo did I realize what my actual self worth was. Your ego is destroyed, and you realize the meaning of humility. But believe me, it is not a bad thing… you learn to learn from others, rather than staying in a delusional state, you actually strive to improve yourself, and most importantly, you learn to never give up. By the end, if you have been persistent, you will never feel the need to show off to anyone what you can do, because in your mind, you already know you can do it all. Beyond being able to break a wooden board (which is surprisingly easy to do actually), these were the lessons which I felt were actually the most valuable, which I have tried to use in every corner of my life. After all, what is there to prove to anyone, when you have already proven everything to yourself?

It has been 5 years since I have regularly trained, and I think I have changed as a person, but maybe not necessarily for the better… lets face it, although I like going to the gym because I like feeling fit, there is also that little part of me which has developed which also enjoys the compliments I receive when I look fit. And although there is nothing wrong with that, it shouldn’t be the primary reason I go to the gym. Maybe I need to remind myself of the lessons I learned a few years ago, and go back for the reasons one should be working out. To be strong, to stay healthy, and of course, to have fun. And hopefully, if I have inspired some of you to take up the martial arts on your own, or better yet, give me some company at the SRC gym starting this fall, then all the better!

The Circle of Life

My Dad went in for a surgery last week. He had been having difficulty breathing through his nose, and essentially, the procedure was to clean out/remove some sort of blockage. I talked with some friends ahead of time, and was reassured that the procedure was fairly minor, and in fact, I wasn't too worried, as it was a day surgery, and he would be out by the evening.

Thankfully, everything went well... however, when I went in to see him in the afternoon, I was a bit taken aback by what I saw. He was totally sedated, hooked up to a IV, and face was heavily bandaged. It was alot more than what I was expecting. I am very lucky to say that I haven't had to spend much time in the hospital myself, as my friends and family have for the most part always been healthy, and maybe thats why I was a bit taken aback.

We took him home, but for the next 12 hours or so, he was totally disoriented and groggy... his nose was bleeding quite profusely, as we had to change his bandage every hour or so. Basically, he was in an infant state, and was unable to do anything on his own. Of course Mom and I were there to look after him, but it felt a bit weird...

I have always been closer to my Mom in the family... she is kind of the strong silent type, and has really always been the leader... we just let Dad think he is though... ;) But still, it kind of hurt me to realise that my Dad has aged and become somewhat feeble. It isn't the first time that he has come back from the hospital, but it seemed as if this surgery really took alot out of him.

A few weeks ago, I was travelling through Europe... I spent alot of money, and vacation time on myself, exploring... I am wondering if those resources could have been better used elsewhere now... at some point kids reach the age when they begin to take on the responsibilities of their parents... the 'Circle of Life' I suppose... I guess, I didn't even realise it, but maybe my time to start walking on the circle has come as well...

Restaurant Review: Dakshin

Some people do movie reviews… some people do book reviews… being a food lover, I have decided that for this blog, I will provide the occasional restaurant review. First up:

Dakshin Hyderabadi Cuisine:
8077 King George Hwy
Surrey, BC

Dakshin is an Indian restaurant which opened up in Surrey about 6 months ago, but I hadn’t had the chance to drop in and try it out. Finally went with my parents on Sunday nite, and was pleasantly surprised.

The food is basically South Indian cuisine, but with more of an Hyderabadi twist, which means that much of the menu is in fact, non-vegetarian. Consequently, I decided to try the Lamb Thali, consisting of Biryani, Lamb Curry, Zucchini Sabji, Dal, Rasam, Pooris, Papadum, and a Gulab Jamun for dessert. The price was fairly reasonable, $11.95, and the proportions of food were quite filling.

As is standard with Andhra cuisine, the food is quite spicy. Personally, I love the spices, so it wasn’t a problem for me, but those with more sensitive tongues should probably keep that in mind and let the chef know before ordering.

The best part of the meal was by far the Biryani… the touch of Jaffran was absolutely heavenly, and I wish that they had served up a bit more Biryani as part of the Thali. I also found the Rasam to be quite good, as it wasn’t too salty, not too watery, and the squash pieces were a nice touch. I didn’t like the Dal too much, as I think I am a bit more used to having Sambar as part of a South Indian meal.

Overall, we were quite happy with the food, and the service was prompt and polite. It wasn’t quite the usual South Indian restaurant I was used to, (there were no Idlis, Uttapam, or Porota on the menu), and I wouldn’t recommend the place too highly if you are a vegetarian. However, for the rest of us, it’s definately worth checking out.

Service: 5/5
Ambiance/Location: 3/5
Food Quality: 4/5

Bengali Music...

Bengali is a wonderful language... sure, we may be obsessed with our 'sh' sounds, rolling everything into 'o's, and adding 'chi', 'che' or 'cho' to the end of every sentence, but in general, I think it is quite pleasant on the ears. I speak and understand it fluently and love its nuances and expressions.

Why then did I never get into Bengali music? I always prefered English or Hindi, and don't really enjoy Bong music at all... :( Every time my dad pops a Bengali music cassette into the tape player in our car (yes, we still have a tape player, CDs are too advanced for my dad), I cringe at the 'Adhunik' (modern) sangeet which he seems to love. For me, it sounds absolutely awful and the lyrics are in some cases quite ridiculous... Then we move onto the genre of Bangla rock which seems to be quite popular in Bangladesh. The problem with Bangla rock is that while the acoustics and getup is such that the songs sound like that they should be about death and destruction, the lyrics seem to be about love and peace... so I am not sure whether to laugh, cry, or change the channel.

Bengalis have a knack for music, and the region has really produced some of the greatest composers and musicians in the country. We can go back in time and the list is endless... Rabindranath Tagore, Nazrul Islam, Bankim Chandra, RD Burman, Hemantha Mukherjee, and Kishore Kumar, all the way to todays stars like Shaan, Abhijeet, Babul Supriyo or Shreya Ghoshal.

Classical Bengali Music, like Rabindra Sangeet or Baul Sangeet is phenominal for those who understand it, but it has its time and its place. For some reason, we seem to be lagging about 50 years behind or are badly out of place when it comes to modernizing Bengali music... on occasion, I hear the good Bengali album... I thought Anjan Duttas work in 'The Bong Connection' was quite decent, and 'Majhi Re' is a song which every so often pops into my head...

But I digress... to the Bongs reading this blog, am I a lost cause? Can you rescue my faith in Bengali music by recommending some nice songs, or will I be lost to the likes of Himesh Reshammiya for ever???

Dog Parathas...

Photo courtesy of: MarriedtoaDesi.com

My mother spent 6 years growing up in Chennai... she says it was the happiest time of her life, and has always had a soft spot for Tamils. Although she never managed to pick up the language, she retained her love of the food, and so even when I was growing up, she would every so often experiment in the kitchen with Dosas, Uttapam, Tamarind Rice or Upma.

Coming to campus, I became good friends with many Southies, and picked up a few more pointers on the quirks and quarks of South Indian cuisine. I was introduced to a new dish many months ago called Kothu Parotta. I wish more people knew about this dish because it has become an absolute favorite. Those of you who have tried the Malaysian dish Roti Canai would be familiar. The Parotta itself is a bit thicker, butterier and flakier than a regular Paratha, but the genius of it is that it is served chopped up into small pieces, mixed with Chole and other selected vegetables like Onions and Tomatos, garnished with Cilantro, and then served with Raita. The word 'Kothu' itself apparently means 'minced' in Tamil, and was the source of a good laugh a few months back...

I had gone with a new group of friends, only one of whom was actually South Indian to the local Sarwana Bhavan. While I ordered a Paneer Dosa, one of my friends decided to order 'Chopped Paratha with Mixed Vegetables', not knowing the surprise she was about to recieve. Just before her plate arrived, she got up to go to the washroom, and when she got back, her plate was at the table...


My Friend : Whose is this?
Everyone else: Yours.
My Friend: But I ordered paratha?
Me: That is Tamil style paratha.
My Friend: But where is the paratha?
Me : That IS the paratha.
My Friend: Is it UNDER all this? {Starts poking around in the dish}
Me and South Indian Friend: In Tamil Nadu they chop up the paratha like that and mix it with veggies...
My Friend {Eyes wide, with a confused look on her face}: But WHY would the DO THAT???
Me {Starting to snicker} : Try it, its actually really good! They call it 'Kottu Parotta'.
{Rest of the table quietly murmurs}: They made this out of chopped dog?
South Indian Friend: {Giving everyone else at the table dirty looks}...
Me: {Ready to fall out of my seat laughing}...

I can vouch for it to be an absolutely scrumpcious dish... but perhaps, my South Indian friends, for the sake of better promotion, you would consider remarketing it for the rest of the us with a slightly different name? ;)

Gems from Ghalib

A few years ago, I was introduced to the works of Mirza Ghalib... given my exceptionally poor communication skills in Hindi/Urdu, at first, it was quite a struggle to translate and comprehend most of his cuplets... however, it is a rewarding process. Some of his poems are truly beautiful, and these are some of my favorites:

1)
हजारों ख्वाहिशें ऐसी के हर ख्वाहिश पे दम निक्ले,
बहुत निक्ले मेरे अरमान लेकिन फ़िर भी कम निक्ले...

Not just the name of a movie, as I originally thought. Describes my thoughts exactly sometimes... no matter how much I get, I still desire more... and for some of these desires, and at times, so stubborn am I, it feels like I would be willing to give anything!


2)
शराब पीने दे मस्जिद मैं बैठ कर,
या फिर वह जगह दिखा जहां खुदा ना हो!

Sometimes his work is really abstract, but at other times, it is crude, and yet beautiful. I love the way Ghalib illustrates that even a drunkard knows that god is everywhere in this verse.


3)
ना था कुछ तो खुदा था, कुछ ना होता तो खुदा होता।
डूबोया मुझको होने नॆ, ना होता मैं तो कया होता ?

There are times that I seriously question what the point is of what I am doing... what is the point of my existance... Ghalib has considered the same... god was there, is there, and will continue to be there. Sometimes it seems like we are drowning in our own existance/sorrows, but really, even if we were to not exist, life would continue to go on. What is the point of leading a pained life, when really, in the grand scheme of things, us, and our problems are quite insignificant?

A sobering thought, and I hope nobody becomes suicidal after reading this verse... and hopefully, you consider that it is much better to lead a happier life then a pained one, so that such thoughts do not come to the mind. Maybe ignorance really is bliss...

4)

नींद उसकी है, दिमाग उसका है, राथ उसकी है,

जिसके बाज़ू पर तेरी ज़ुल्फें परेशान हैं ।

Originally, I wasn't terribly impressed, until someone explained a double meaning in this verse. Apparently, 'परेशान' has a double meaning in classical Urdu, which makes these lines even more meaningful... I shall leave it to you to find out what the second meaning was.

5)

मुहब्बत मैं नहीं है फ़र्क जीने और मरने मैं,

उसी को देख के जीते है, जिस काफ़िर पे दम निक्ले...

Somehow, Ghalib shows his genius by taking two contrasting elements (love, and death), and blending them together to make it seem incredibly passionate! I am not much of a romantic, but this for some reason is my favorite of the bunch.

Europe Memoirs, Part 5: The Eiger Trail

Original Publish Date: August 12, 2009

Before leaving for Switzerland, I did a bit of research on the web and found out that one of the most recommended scenic hikes to do in the Bernese Alps is known at the 'Eiger Trail'...

The trail starts at a place called Kleine Scheidigg which is deep in the heart of the alps. From there you hike up approximately 300 meters to the base of the Eiger Mountain, known as Eigergleister. The hike then continues along the foot of the Monch, Eiger, and Schrekhorn mountains and you slowly descend down to the village of Grindelwald. Total hike time, with breaks, was approximately 6 hours. I travelled from Gimmelwald to Kleine Scheidigg via cogwheel train, and upon disembarking, was absolutely blown away... three of the highest peaks in Europe were on one side of me, and green, but rocky landscape beckoned from the other. I spent a few minutes admiring what I will probably never have the chance to experience again, and then decided to commence with the first part of the hike upto Eigergleister.

300 meters... not even a single lap around a standard running track. Now I like to think that I am a person who is in pretty good shape. But let me tell you, when you are breathing the thin mountain air, and carrying a 30 lb pack on your shoulders, you suddenly realise you are not in as good shape as you think you are... it took me a solid hour to make this elevation difference, and by the time I reached Eigergleister, I actually was ready to pass out. The only thing that kept me going was the sight of two elderly Swiss women who had actually passed me as I was hiking up and were now happily chatting away and looking at the summit. Of course neither of THEM were carrying a 30 lb pack and had probably been doing this as soon as they popped out of their mothers wombs, but I shall conviniently digress...

The rest of the hike was strenuous but enjoyable... I simply put on my headphones, stayed in tune with the music (Lucky Ali is really good hiking music for the Swiss Alps by the way...) and took in the sights around me... Every so often I would stop for a water break, snap some pics, and chatted with my fellow hikers. I was also continuously seranaded by the light clangering sounds of cow and goat bells from the animals which had come up to graze on the cliffs. 5 hours later, I found myself descending into the village of Grindelwald...

Have you ever had a meal which fed not only your body, but also your soul? Well, this happened to me in the village of Grindelwald. I spent the night in a farmers barn there... (hey, it was cheap, and how often do you get to sleep in straw?) but was running low on cash. Realising that an ATM was not easily accessible here, I ended up going to the local Aldi supermarket, and bought a loaf of Pumpernickel Bread, a hunk of Cheese, some Swiss Chocolate, and a liter of Milk. Total cost? Only 8 CHF... :) I took my bag of food up to a field beside the barn and proceeded to have myself a little picnic... The meal? Well, I just described it previously... My dining mates? Two goats which were grazing in the field... The setting? An unobstructed view of the Schrekhorn mountain... I happily gorged myself on the contents of my bag of food, and proceeded to watch as the mountain turned from the color of granite, to a hue of pink, and finally, as the sun bid me adieu, it became darker and darker, and faded from sight.

Every so often the mind reaches a place which is difficult to describe. Tagore wrote a famous poem, the opening lines of which are "Where the mind is without fear, and the head is held high"... The Bodeans wrote the song for the 90's TV show 'Party of Five' known as "Closer to Free"... poets, musicians, and scholars have described this place using various words, but whatever that place is, as I lay in a farmers field on the other side of the world, body aching, but stomach full, I think my mind reached it, and I had a peaceful nights rest after a long, long time...

Europe Memoirs, Part 4: Gimmelwald

Original Publish Date: August 12, 2009

Interlaken Ost is considered the gateway station into the Bernese Swiss Alps. Upon disembarking here, you transfer to the Jungfraubahn, the system of cogwheel railcars which take you high into the Alps, wherever you want to go. The first stop beyond Interlaken is known as Lauterbrunnen, which lies at the entrance of the Lauterbrunnen Valley. As the train pulls into Lauterbrunnen, and you get your first glimmpse at what lies ahead of you in the valley, you literally have your breath taken away by the awesome sight of the mountains ahead.

The valley is known as the 'Valley of 1000 Waterfalls', as every few 100 meteres there is a waterfall cascading down from the valley cliffs on either site of you. I hiked from one end of the valley to the other, the total time being about 4 hours, but it flew by, as I simply absorbed what I saw around me. The grass and trees are lush green, and all the while you are surrounded by the snow covered trips of the mountains. Clouds lazily meander across the background of the deep blue sky... the air is crisp, and every breath you take invigorates your senses.

Ultimately, my destination for the night was a small village known as Gimmelwald. The village of Gimmelwald lies 2000 meters above the valley, in a remote part of the alps, at the other end of the valley. It is accessible only by cable car, and by the time I reached there, I realised I was actually exhausted. But there are no materialistic pleasures to be had here. In Gimmelwald, there is basically nothing. No stores, no restaurants, no banks, nothing. There are 3 small guesthouses, the attic of one of which became my place of shelter for the night. After grabbing a quick nap, I spent the rest of the day exploring the village. Cows and goats graze in the fields, young men with their pants rolled upto their knees toss hay on the hills with pitchforks. Young, blue eyed, blond haired boys and girls kicked a soccer bell around in the only street in the village, as their mothers looked on, and chatted with one another. There are no Playstations, no IPods here... kids still ride their bikes and play on the swings in the playground. There were only 2 jeeps in the entire village... and a total population of 150 people. I came to the conclusion that the people of these village must have been exceptionally hardy to survive and propser in a location such as this, especially in the wintertime.

Seeing a place like this, where there are minimal facilities, and yet, the people are happy and prosperous makes one realise that maybe not all good things in life are fancy and expensive. It is nice to know that there are still places like this, and people like these... I had been questioning humanity alot lately, and it was good to see that it still exists in remove places such as the village of Gimmelwald...

Europe Memoirs, Part 3: A Canadian in Europe

Original Post Date: August 8, 2009

I began my 3 day hiking expedition by leaving Berne early in the morning and heading for Interlaken Ost station by train. At Berne station, I was standing on the platform minding my own business when I was approached by an elderly gentleman. He told me he saw the Maple Leaf on my backpack, and asked me where I was from (I was pleasently surprised to see how well the Maple Leaf is recieved throughout Europe). We got to chatting, not just on the platform, but all the way to Interlaken, as it turned out we were going to the same destination. In fact, he was extremely friendly, we ended up exchanging contacts, and I promised I would come and see him the next time I was in Berne. The gentlemans name was Hans, and he happened to be a retired professor, who used to teach at Berkeley, and had travelled throughout the world, including Vancouver. This was really the first chance I had gotten to talk to a Swiss person freely, and we started discussing the differences between North American and European Culture. I told him how much I loved the relaxed lifestyle, personal fitness levels, and excellent infrastructure. However, I started to think to myself... despite these benefits, would I want to actually settle here? By the end of our conversation, something sort of dawned on me... as a tourist, I was extremely well treated and welcome, and I had an excellent time travelling, but as a foreigner.

Europe has its own history, its own language, and its own set of values, of which each European country is quite protective. To stay in Europe, I felt an immigrant would really have to change themselves and BECOME European. People in general tend to set their own boundaries, and it isn't until they are pushed do they tend to redefine these boundaries. But I wonder, do we sometimes forget who we really are, and justify redefining ourselves, just so that we can fit in? Do we become blissfully ignorant, and is it really even worth it? Given that I have never been pushed too far out of my comfort zone, perhaps I don't have the right to ask these question, but it was a thought that popped into my head quite often during my travels.

In North America, perhaps because of the lack of history, I think the choice is still optional... speaking from experience, if an Indo Canadian wants to retain Indianess and be proud of being Canadian at the same time, it is entirely acceptable. The Canadian identity is that that we don't actually have our own distinct identity because we have come to accept a myriad of identities from throughout the world into the country. I suppose you could say that you are free to define your boundries in whatever way suits you best. Whether or not this is a healthy approach is debatable, but perhaps this is the reason why I think most minorities would still prefer to come to North America first before heading to Europe...

Europe Memoirs, Part 2: Sleeping Around

Original Publish Date: August 4, 2009

Get your heads out of the gutter people... this note is about the myriad of different places I stayed at/slept in during the Europe trip. From a farmers barn to a 4 star hotel, I did it all...

#1

Haus Justinus, Student Hostel, Zurich, Cost CHF 50/nite.

Haus Justinus

I was pleasantly surprised by this place... stayed in it during the conference itself. I was expecting a student hostel to be like Thunderbird, or even worse... Totem. But it was very clean, very quiet, and the breakfast buffet was absolutely to die for. I give it 4/5 stars.

#2

CKs Place, Lausanne, Cost CHF 0/nite.

CKs Place

Floor was a little hard... also, the pillow was kind of lumpy... ;)But jokes aside, CK, had a blast hanging out with you, and really appreciate you letting me crash at your place... sometimes comfort doesn't matter, and its about the people, and not the place. 5/5 stars.

#3

Hostel International, Berne and Lucerne, Cost CHF 45/nite.

Hostel International

By far the crappiest places I had to stay. Although both places were clean, the rooms were a bit smelly and muggy, and there was always someone snoring loudly. 2/5 stars.

#4

Village House Attic, Gimmelwald, Cost CHF 25/nite.

Village Attic

While in the tiny village of Gimmelwald, in the Swiss Alps, I found a place which the owner had converted into a bed and breakfast. While the individual rooms were quite expensive, he had converted the attic into a sort of dormitory with 4 cots on the floor. The nice thing was that the night I was there, the dorm was empty. The place was cool and clean, and the view out the window was mindblowing. One too many flys buzzing around though. 3/5 stars.

#5

Weiss Family Barn, Grindelwald, Cost CHF 25/nite.

Weiss Family Barn

The most adventerous place I stayed. Yes, I slept in a farmers barn. DDLJ anyone? Unfortunately no Kajol/Simran to dance around with all nite... The straw was actually too soft, and I think I got bit by a few insects... but hey, who cares... I slept in a barn. 3/5 stars.

#6

Mercure Airport Hotel, Amsterdam, Cost Euro 80/nite.

Mercure Hotel

I decided to shell out a few extra bucks and stay in a nice place for the last part of the trip. I was a complete stranger to the city, and given the state of many of the youth frequenting the Coffeehouses in the Red Light District at night, I think it was well worth spending the extra money to stay at a really comfortable place rather than cheaping out at and meeting some of these youth at 'Bobs Backpackers Hostel'. 5/5 stars.

#7

Bench at Heathrow Terminal 3, London, Cost Euro 0/nite.

Heathrow, Terminal 3

Running low on cash, and anxious to get home, my last nite in Europe was spend on an airport bench in London. Was actually quite chilly, and I wish I had my sleeping bag, or at least a blanket. However, the bench was quite comfortable, and the janitors were not the least bothered. 2/5 stars.

Europe Memoirs, Part 1: AmsterDAMN!

Original Post Date: August 2, 2009

My European adventure is coming to an end soon, and I have had alot to think about and write about... so here is the first part of my memoirs from this trip... I have a lot more to say, so be prepared and, stay tuned! I thought I would start off with the city which I originally was not too keen on visiting, but I somehow ended up here, and decided to make the most of it. It ended up being quite an interesting experience, and I am glad I made the stop.

Arrived in Amsterdam early in the morning via an overnight train from Zurich. Frankly, my first impressions of the city were pretty negative. The landscape of all of the Netherlands is as flat as a pancake, and the weather was dull and gray. It is very depressing looking, as basically the entire country is farmland/dikes, with the occasional small town which pops up in between. Furthermore, when you first see the city of Amsterdam, all of the buildings seem to be made of brick and mortar, which almost makes the city seem as if you have arrived in a prison in the midwestern USA. The Dutch language itself is a bit funny... it seems to be a combination of German and Nordic Languages, and kind of sounds like the people are grunting and gargling from the back of their throats in short, loopy bursts, with every 3rd sound being a "sh" (The Dutch pronounce 's' as 'sh').

The Dutch are an odd bunch. They REALLY know how to relax. Apparently no one works past 4PM and 8 weeks of vacation a year are quite normal. While the Spanish and the French are flamboyant and passionate about partying, and the Swiss and the Germans are a bit more orderly and classy when they relax, the Dutch are just chilled out, about being chilled out. Nothing seems to phase them, and they judge no one.

People are absolutely obsessed with bicycles. They have a parking garage for bikes and not for cars right beside Amsterdam Central Station. You are far more likely to get hit by a bicyclist than a car here. I guess it makes sense with the land being so flat and all. Some other interesting quirks I noticed... these people have really weird toilets with very little water in them, which basically forces you to inspect your business, after you have conducted your business. Also, they seem very keen on eating healthy. Dutch cuisine is a bit bland, and if you order french fries, expect to pay extra for your ketchup/mayonaise on the side.

Anyway, dropped my bags off at the hotel, took a shower, and headed out early in the afternoon on a tram to explore the city. Before I left the hotel, I had an interesting debate in my mind... what should I wear? I decided to go a bit formal and wear a pink shirt with a sweater... the pink turned out to be quite appropriate. I did not plan this at all, but by chance, that day was the gay pride parade in Amsterdam. I discovered this while walking to the city center and I noticed huge crowds lining the sides of one of the main canals. I asked what was going on, and someone in the crowd told me that the parade floats were about to come down the canal... imagine that... Sudip from Surrey standing bemusedly on the side of a canal as hundreds of drag queens, drag kings, and queers in general gyrated to techno music as they floated down a canal, while tens of thousands of Dutch enthusiastically cheered them on with cans of Heineken in their hands... I actually had to pinch myself when one of the floats stopped right in front of me, the mayor of Amsterdam climbed on board, and conducted the marriage ceremony of two gay Jewish men from the USA. Beside me someone held a huge sign which read, "Dutchify the world... gay rights for all..." Quite the interesting start to the Amsterdam experience.

Marijuana use is quite rampant and accepted. Interestingly, I don't think the Dutch get stoned as much as tourists from abroad do. Weed is sold upto 30 grams at once in small 'Coffeeshops' which are located in almost every block of the city. Most are pretty chilled out, but the ones located in the city center were filled with some pretty freaky looking stoners... People pretty much go in, get high, and then come out as if its part of the normal routine. Although smoking in public is prohibited, I went to a place called Vondelpark, where I noticed many youngsters smoking joints as they chilled out along the side of a lake... and of course, drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes in public are totally acceptable.

The Red Light District is something else all together... in fact it is not that big, only about 4 city blocks. However, what was amazing to me was how much a mainstream part of life it is. It is only about 5 minutes from the Central Train Station, and tour groups, families with kids, and party goers happily stroll along, admiring the sights and 'pleasures' which are being openly offered within...

Amongst all the wildness, there are also some nice museums here... the Rembrandt Museum, Van Gogh Museum and Anne Frank House are all here. I really wanted to see the Anne Frank House, but unfortunately, it was closed due to the parade.

I'm not sure about how nice it would be to settle here, and some of the things I saw were sort of a shock. But I think if you are mature enough, you should definately come here once just to experience the incredible aura the place has. I don't know if Amsterdam is representative of all of the Netherlands, and may just be more of an experiment. In fact, Rotterdam and Den Haag were an absolute bore in comparison. While the Dutch may in fact be very conservative in the personal lives, (I'm not sure, as I amen't here long enough to pass any judgements), the way they are willing to live and let live is admirable, and I am impressed by how they refuse to judge absolutely anyone...Coming up soon... Hiking in the Swiss Alps... stay tuned!

AR Rahmans Top 5

Original Publish Date: July 14, 2009

As I sit around trying to understand Matlab code, my mind wanders, and I decide to do the thing that all grad students do when they want to procrastinate... Youtube.

I came across the following links:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCEMB5Eqbc4
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cPtpVEBz9DI
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4HBwXz7p1CU

Wow, this man (AR Rahman) really is a genius. I agreed with some of the list, but not all... but I can't blame any list maker, all of his songs are so good, it is tough to choose!Anyway, just for fun, here is my top 5. Am wondering what everyone elses top 5 lists are, and whether you all had as tough a time as me picking it!

5) Dil Se Re - Dil Se
4) Tere Bina - Guru
3) Yeh Haseen Vadiyan - Roja
2) E Ajnabi - Dil Se
1) Saathiya (Title) - Saathiya

Curry Bashing, Kangaroo Bashing, and Canada Bashing

Original Publish Date: June 17, 2009

I am sure most of you have by now heard of the ‘Curry Bashing’ incidents which recently went on in Australia. Interestingly, I have actually found it somewhat difficult to form an opinion on this subject. Let me tell you why…

Supposedly there were 20 incidents of assaults against Indian students studying in India due to their ethnicity during the month of May…

http://www.indianexpress.com/news/20-incidents-of-attacks-on-Indians-in-a-month-in-Sydney/468521

Absolutely disgusting… it must be horrible for an Indian student to be living in Australia right now… I can only imagine what it might be like for one to have to go out at night with the thought of an assault hovering over their heads. Pretty straight forward, right?Well…

http://blogs.timesofindia.indiatimes.com/jugglebandhi/entry/we-re-even-more-racist

Hmmmn… to be honest, the writer of this article makes a lot of sense… anyone who has been to India knows of the obsession over fair skin… the castism and regionalism which is still prevalent in many parts of the country, the use of derogatory terms for those who don’t look Indian. For shame… for shame… who are Indians to criticize others??? But wait… there is more:

http://blogs.timesofindia.indiatimes.com/Free-Kick/entry/racists-indians-no-way

This is very true… why should Indians show restraint!? For years, people of the subcontinent have been treated shabbily by their European counterparts… its time they started standing up for themselves! Foreigners criticize India, why should Indians back down when they are being targeted outside of the country? The racism which may or may not exist within India is a moot point… well said! Okay, so now the question is, who are the real racists…? Oh wait, I know, it’s the CANADIANS!!!

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/World/Indians-Abroad/After-Australia-racial-assault-on-Indians-in-Canada/articleshow/4638419.cms

Wow… considering the recent goings on, anyone reading this article in India would probably come to the conclusion that I live in a racist country where I am in danger of being beaten to a pulp any second because of the color of my skin… of course as far as I can remember, no redneck has had the guts to try and slur me in the past 15 years, and when it happened, a couple of my friends and I sent him scampering out into into the school playground in fear of his life... It sounds even stranger considering that I was born in a city where the majority religion is Sikhism, in a region which has countless Temples, Gurdawaras, and Mosques, in a province which has had a South Asian as premier, in a country which has literally dozens of South Asian MPs and MLAs and where pretty much every South Asian festival is joyfully celebrated in some form or another. Damn… now I am totally confused.

Being bombarded with so many different opinions, arguments, and view points, I stop and ponder for a second… maybe, just maybe, it isn’t really that complicated… when it comes down to it, perhaps it is as simple as this:

Racism of ANY form in ANY country or region of the world against ANY ethnicity is simply wrong and should be condoned. Be it beating up Indian students in Australia, monkey chants against Australian cricketers, or assaulting tennis players in Canada, all of the acts are immoral, and there is no excuse for any of them. There is no point in sensationalizing any of the incidents, there is no need for finger pointing or rationalization, there is simply the need for people to realize that we are all human beings, and to discriminate against one another on the basis of our ethnicity is criminal.

Forgive me if I am being a bit too simplistic and idealistic, but is it possible that this is really all it boils down to?

Turning Failure into Success

Original Publish Date: June 1, 2009

I was reading a friends blog a while ago about life’s funny twists and turns… and one of her stories led me to think back a bit about how I got myself into the predicament I am in today.

I graduated from UBC with my B.A.Sc in Civil Engineering in 2004, and worked for over a year in a small structural engineering consulting company in Surrey. However, after some time, I found myself wanting to come back to school due to the crappy pay, poor working conditions, and lack of job satisfaction… I figured getting my masters degree would be a good way to increase my credentials so that I could get a job at a better company after I completed. I spoke with one of my old professors, and he suggested that in order to guarantee entry into the program (as for some reason, it was quite competitive at the time), I apply for a non-thesis based M.Eng, rather than for a thesis based M.A.Sc, do well in my course work, and then if I wanted to, transfer into the M.A.Sc later on. Essentially, the plan was that within 18-24 months, I would be done with my studies and back in the work force leading a regular, mundane life… but it seems life has a funny way of playing tricks on you…

Now it had been well over a year since I had been out of school, and the first semester I was back, I found myself really struggling with academics… I just wasn’t used to the routine of sitting/sleeping through morning lectures, working through insanely long assignments, and then cramming for tests. Also, I was a bit depressed because it seemed as if all my friends from undergrad were moving onto bigger and better things in their lives, and here I was stuck in reverse, back in school. To top it off, the program advisor suggested that I take 3 courses in my first semester… and those three courses happened to be the most difficult courses in the program, and in my opinion, quite possibly, contained some of the most difficult subject material you can take in engineering in general.

I somehow managed to slog my way through two of the courses, but the third became the absolute bane of my existence. No matter how much I studied, I just could not understand the subject, and it showed in my poor midterm mark, as well as in my assignment submissions. I studied like mad for the final exam, and prayed like anything that I could just pass the course so that I would never have to think about it again… unfortunately this was not to be. Although I passed the course, my grade was not high enough for me to get credit for the course towards my program… essentially, I would have to retake the course in a year (thereby delaying my graduation), or take another course over the summer in order to make up for it.

Now I had usually been a pretty decent student. In fact in high school, I was one of the better students in the school, and even during undergrad, in the instances when I actually did do some work, I usually managed to get pretty decent marks. So being told I had to retake a course was absolutely mortifying for me. At the time, I think I considered it my biggest failure ever… however, left with no choice, I started looking for a professor who would give me a research project over the summer so that I could make up for the missed credits. And this is where my life took a turn in a totally different direction.

That summer, I met with my current Ph.D supervisor. I had always considered research as kind of a waste of time, but since I didn’t have a choice, I asked him if he could take me on as his directed studies student. I had done pretty decently in one of his courses, and so thankfully he agreed. At first things started kind of slow, but for some odd reason, I found myself beginning to develop an interest in the subject area, and in doing research in general. I did well in the project, and he agreed to accept me as his M.A.Sc student. Over time, I guess I continued to do well, and he offered to take me on as a Ph.D student.

Now, never in a million years, had I, or anyone around me imagined I could possibly have the title, “Dr.” associated with my name. And even I was EXTREMELY hesitant at the idea of sentencing myself to another 3-4 years of school… however, the idea was intriguing, and since I did seem to share a good relationship with my supervisor, after many months of sweating over it, I decided to accept the offer, and I guess the rest is history…

I am without question the worlds most unlikely Ph.D candidate, and when I tell people that if I can do a doctorate, then ANYONE can do a doctorate, I really mean it… think about it… a distinctly mediocre undergrad who failed in his first semester as a masters student, and was never too keen on research anyway, is now somehow on the road to a Ph.D…

If I hadn’t failed that course years ago, I would never have started looking for a research project, and I would never would have gotten where I am now. Of course, for that matter, I am still not sure if I have even taken the right decision, but I suppose time will tell.

Your attitude can be your biggest friend... or your biggest foe. In my limited experience, I have found that while a positive attitude does not necessarily guarantee success, a negative attitude will pretty much guarantee failure. I suppose the moral of this post is that one should always try to stay positive, never give up hope, and try to turn your failures into successes… life is a trip, and things seem to have a strange way of working out…

5 Things I have Learnt in Grad School

Original Publish Date: April 29, 2009

Found this online... and I agree whole heartedly with each statement!

1) The longer the title of a scientific paper, the lesser the relevance it will have to its actual content.

2) The more time you spend researching papers online, the higher the probability you will end up surfing videos on YouTube.

3) The weather improves dramatically as deadlines approach.

4) Your 30 minute presentation should be ten minutes long. That way, the audience has five minutes to ask questions. And the first fifteen minutes can be spent trying to get the projector to work with the laptop.

5) And finally… Murphy’s Law is probably the only undisputed law on the planet.

Delhi-6: Arziyaan

Original Publish Date: February 23, 2009

Thought the movie was strictly okay... but for some reason, I can't get the lyrics/tune of the first few lines of 'Arziyaan' out of my head...

I think this is the feeling we all get when we sincerely go to a Temple/Mosque/Place of worship...

'Arziyaan saari main chehre pe likh ke laaya hoon,
Tumse kya maangoon main, tum khud hi samajh lo...'

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aEip7lBz6UI

Beauty in its simplicity... Rahman really is a genius. If not for Slumdog, he definately deserved an Oscar for his dozens of other brilliant compositions. I don't know who wrote the lyrics, but he deserves as much credit as well.

Dosas in a Snowstorm...

Original Publish Date: December 22, 2008

So some friends and I made a plan to go out for Dosas at Mayuri a few days ago. Of course, at the time, no one realised that Vancouver would decide to do its impression of Calgary. Going against common sense and better judgment, the Surrey boys decided to show their Surrey nature by risking their lives, and going out for dinner. 5 us of went, and we had the option of picking from 4 different cars to take.

We learnt a very important lesson last night. If you are going for dosas in a snow storm, never pick a 15 year old Toyota Corolla with bald summer tires on...

A 20 min drive suddenly turned into a 40 minute crawl, but after a wrong right turn, and several exchanges of profanity, we ultimately reached our destination...

What a precise parking job!

After thoroughly enjoying our meal, stomachs full, we happily walked back out into the parking lot, only to realise that getting out might be a BIT of a challenge. But of course, we had total faith in our driver...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V8I0oe9F5_s

Despite the fact that it took us 15 min to move the car 15 m, at the insistence of one particular Surreyite... :), it was decided that we shall continue the evening by going for bowling at Excalibur Lanes. Of course where we were coming from required navigation down a mildly steep hill to the bowling alley. But then, when the hill is covered in ice, and visibility is poor, the hill all of a sudden seems much steeper...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FJFZBqQmHr8

TOTALLY worth it though... I bowled my best game ever!

Final Balance Sheet:
Dosa, Coffee and Mithai at Mayuri: $18.00
Bowling at Excalibur: $8.00
Throwing common sense out the window for a night, and having fun with the boys: PRICELESS

PS. If you are easily offended by profanity in the videos... too bad. It's 5 brown guys from Surrey. What do you expect? ;)

The Perfect Poem for a Dreary Sunday Afternoon...

Original Publish Date: November 9, 2008

Let that come when it comes; all hope is lost
Of my reception into grace; what worse?
For where no hope is left is left no fear;
If there be worse, the expectation more
Of worse torments me than the feeling can.
I would be at the worst; worst is my port,
My harbour, and my ultimate repose,
The end I would attain, my final good.
My error was my error, and my crime
My crime; whatever, for itself condemned,
And will alike be punished, whether thou
Reign or reign not

-- John Milton (1667)

The Simple Things...

Original Publish Date: October 10, 2008

So as most of you are probably aware of from my status messages, I recently completed my comprehensive exam, thereby sentencing myself to another few years of school... Studying for this exam, proved to be quite a challenge, and required me to spend alot more time on campus then I normally like to. I am lucky that my family lives in Surrey, and so usually I get to come home every weekend or every other weekend and just chill out. However, this exam basically required me to spend a heck of alot of time locked up in my room in Thunderbird, or in my office in CEME, at all hours of the day/night. I haven't gone home nearly as much in the past 2 months as I normally would. So I guess I was missing out on the benefits of sleeping in a normal sized bed, watching TV on a normal sized screen, and eating normal tasting food cooked by a normal person... ;)

Anyway, I finally got to come home today for the long weekend for a well deserved break. I've been looking forward to this since yesterday when I finished the exam. Just kept on thinking about how nice it would be able to sleep in a bed that I wouldn't be in danger of rolling out of... eating food that actually tasted like food... not having to do my own laundry for the next few days... getting to watch the cricket match on a normal sized screen instead of on the laptop, basically all those material things that I get to take for granted when I am at home...

So as usual, I got on the B-Line from UBC, overloaded with my backpack and duffle bag... then transferred onto the Skytrain, never getting a seat as usual... stumbling my way past all the crackheads at Surrey Central onto the 323, and finally getting off at 90th Ave and making the final trek home... The same journey that I made for 4 years during my Undergrad, and then for another year during my Masters...

It occurred to me today just how irritating it used to be to make this stupid journey everyday during those 5 years. I would have to wake up waaaay to early, only to never get a seat on the Buses/Skytrain, usually get drenched by the rain, and then end up getting to class late half the time anyway. But, for some strange reason, today, after a long while, I actually enjoyed the trip home. Still all the same irritants, and yet for some reason, today, it was different. Maybe I was just feeling relaxed, or enjoying the music playing on my iPod, but this time, after a long time, as I was crammed into on the bus/skytrain, I enjoyed looking at the diverse variety of people that makes up Vancouver, was amused by the antics of the crackheads at the skytrain station, and was enjoying the memories as I passed by my friends houses on the bus on the way home in Surrey. As I walked by my old high school, I couldn't help but be shocked by just how many years its been since I graduated from that place. When I was walking on the soccer field, I kind of missed the weekly soccer/football games we used to play with friends during the summer.

Anyway, I am home now writing this little note, and I guess I kind of feel a different respect for all those who have travelled from all corners of the world just to study at UBC. I am lucky enough to be only an hour and half away from my home, and can easily come back here pretty much whenever I want. Alot of people don't have that option. The respect is NOT because they too are missing out on big beds, TVs, food, and laundry. I am saying this because they are also missing out on those simple little things that makes home... home. The simple little things that we don't usually take the time to actually appreciate. And for each person, these things will be different. For me, I amen't able to get together with my old friends nearly as often I would like to. I miss those soccer matches, movies, retarted conversations, and stupid arguments. I miss being able to go over and talk with the neighbors, and join in with the neighborhood kids during the street hockey games. I miss being able to walk a few blocks for some hot samosas and chutney, and I can't help but get a bit nostalgic about how easy life was back in High School. I enjoy being able to live in this wonderful city, and alot of times don't appreciate how cool it is. And for all the advantages of the freedom I get by staying on campus, for some unexplained reason I think I even kind of miss getting into massive arguments with my parents about just about everything.

Life is too short, hectic and complicated. Unfortunately, you are going to hurt people, and get hurt yourself. It is going to be a struggle, and very few things come easily. People are basically bastards, and there is nothing you can do about them. No matter how much you think you know, the truth is, you actually don't know much at all. And frankly speaking, overall, things can get really, really depressing at times. But, for all the bad things, we can also get a great deal of comfort from the simple things that we take for granted. They will give you the strength to get through the adversities you will face. And alot of times, they are all you have.

The point of this long winded note is not to bore you with stories of my trip home. But, rather, to encourage you to take the time to step back, take a deep breath, and just enjoy the simple little things in life. The more uncomplicated, the better. Forget about what is wrong with the world. It will make life seem much more tolerable. I think that is what I am going to try and do this weekend... ;)

Bush and Rice

Original Publish Date: June 3, 2008

Thought you all might find this interesting:
http://news.in.msn.com/international/article.aspx?cp-documentid=1365424

Apparently, it is okay for 350 million Americans to be obese and eat more than there fair share of food, while if 350 million Indians begin getting their mininium nutritional requirements and start to prosper, its a pretty big problem, and they are responsible for causing global food prices to increase.

According to George Bush, Americans are incredibly compassionate people... Yes, Mr. Bush, dropping food packets marked 'USA' from helicopters while starving Africans run around underneath like ants is incredibly compassionate. The decades the West spent neglecting and exploting Africa is a moot point. No, it is far better that we now send them a bit of food aid. But then again, the Indians are already eating too much... what would happen if the AFRICANS started eating too? Before you know it, Americans would soon be STARVING to death...

Now I am not saying that Canadians, or for that matter, any other group of people in the world are particularly brilliant... but if a countries leadership is a reflection on its people... then Americans are by far the biggest morons in the world.

Something for the Engineers to think about...

Original Publish Date: April 10, 2008

Something to chew on for all the engineers out there...

Was having an interesting talk with my supervisor several nights ago.We were discussing the pointlessness of going to engineering school, as there was a very good chance that the neighboorhood postman would end up making more money than us. He suggested that in order to increase our marketability, we should introduce yet another course for students to take, 'Engineering Marketing 101', as it might help us sell ourselves. Didn't really think much of the comment at the time…

Yesterday morning I was happily killing time, reading through the news, and came across the following link:

http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1728893,00.html?xid=rss-topstories

It seems as if US water infrastructure is in serious need of repair, and billions of dollars need to be invested to bring the system back up to standard. Is the government willing to spend this money though? I sincerely doubt it… after all, there are still buildings in Iraq which need to be bombed, and that money for explosives has to come from somewhere, doesn't it?

But getting back to my original point, in North America, despite deteriorating infrastructure, we are generally lucky enough to be able to turn on the tap, and get clean water. But just how bad is it, in the rest of the world? The numbers are quite shocking:

Turns out 2.2 million people will die this year due to lack of access to clean drinking water. To put this in context, the number of people expected to die this year worldwide due to AIDS is estimated to be 1.9-2.4 million people. It seems as if lack of clean water is AS BIG a killer as AIDS. Yet, how is it that so many people know of the AIDS epidemic, and so few know the severity of this water crisis? There are plenty of 'AIDS walkathons', 'charity drives', and 'benefit concerts', but I have yet to hear of a 'Water walkathon'…

Is it possible that my supervisor was right? Do we need to start taking courses in marketing? Do Engineers need to start taking more pride in what they do, and start selling themselves, and more importantly, their services, to the public better? We have the 'cure' for dirty water, and yet, we do not advertise it well enough. Is it not frustrating then that while billions of dollars are invested in R&D for diseases, we don't invest money in implementing the 'cure' for unsanitary water worldwide? Ultimately who is at fault for not making sure that our services are actually put into practice?

The fact is that without electrical engineers, doctors would not have access to the biomedical devices with which they are able to perform their miracles. Without civil engineers, you probably wouldn't get any water pouring out of the tap when you turn the handle. Without mechanical engineers, we would not have the engines which run just about anything that moves. It's clear that engineers have power. But as Spiderman would say, "With great power comes great responsibility".

The question is, where does our responsibility end? Does it end with simply designing a system/component, or do we also have a responsibility to the public to see that our services are being properly implemented? Forget about marketing ourselves better in order to increase our chargeout rates... Do we need to 'market' ourselves better in order to see that our knowledge and expertise are being properly implemented?

Maut Tu Ek Kavita Hai...

Original Publish Date: December 15, 2007

Was watching the classic 'Anand' last nite after a long time. Although it has always been one of my favorites, this time I paid particular attention to the poem recited by Amitabh:

"Maut tu ek kavita hai
Mujhse ek kavita ka vadaa hai, milegi mujhko
Doobti nabzon mein jab dard ko neend aane lage
Zard sa chehra liye chaand ufaq tak pahunche
Din abhi paani mein ho, raat kinare ke kareeb
Na andhera ho, na ujala ho
Na aadhi raat, na din
Jism jab khatm ho aur rooh ko saans aae
Mujhse ek kavita ka vadaa hai, milegi mujhko"

Not to sound morbid, but I don't think death can sound more beautiful than this...

Snakes, Sadhus and Incredible India

Original Publish Date: November 16, 2007

'Incredible India’… you have all seen the commercials… colorfully dressed dancers, ridiculously flexible people doing yoga, spectacular wild life. But does all this really make India ‘Incredible’? Is this what makes it unique? What is this invisible bond that draws us back again and again? They are questions which I sort of struggle with. I mean, if you want to see dancers, flexible people, and elephants, you can always go to the local circus, rather than traveling half way across the planet. I mean, really, why should one travel to India? As any Indian has to admit, it’s polluted, overpopulated, corrupt, and if you are not careful, the mosquitoes might just eat you alive. It probably makes a lot more sense to travel somewhere nice and safe… Europe, or maybe the Caribbean. You can always get your ‘India Experience’ by watching the latest Bollywood blockbuster. Right?

I beg to differ. If I may, I would like to take the next few minutes of your time, and briefly relate to you an experience I had last December, in Haridwar, Uttaranchal, India.

Anyone who has been to Haridwar knows of the many ghats that are on the riverbank. The water is quite clear, and at times, the setting is quite peaceful. One fine afternoon, I was just sitting along the shore, minding my own business, when I was approached by a somewhat shady looking Sadhu. I had seen many Sadhus in Haridwar, but what stood out about this one, was that he had a particularly large snake wrapped around his neck. Now, for those of you who don’t know me, let me tell you that I’m not terribly comfortable around 7 foot long snakes, especially those which seem to have a habit of hissing at passer Byers as they stroll by. The Sadhu proceeded to walk up to me and held out a small can in which he was collecting alms. I took a 5 rupee coin out of my wallet, smiled, and dropped it into the can, hoping that he would be satisfied. Apparently, this was not the case…

He asked, "Beta, kya tum Ganga Maiyan ke bhakt ho?” A bit taken aback, I nodded in approval. He then proceeded, "Agar tum sach mein bhakht ho, phir jev se ek note nekalo, aur ‘Baba’ ko chuo." It took me a few seconds to try and figure out what he was talking about, when I realized that by 'Baba', he was referring to the giant snake wrapped around his neck. Now, at this point, partially out of curiosity, partially out of faith, and partially out of fear, I again reached into my wallet, pulled out a 50 rupee bill, hesitantly stuck my fingers out and touched the snake. Pleased, the Sadhu began to recite some mantras and after some time, he asked me to repeat after him, "Bolo Ganga Maiyan ki jai!" which I did without hesitation. At this point, he removed my hand from the snake, took the bill out of my hand, crumpled it up, put it into his palms, and then started rubbing them both together. As he rubbed his palms together, he asked me to place my hands under his palms, and after some time, 'magically' out of his palms plopped a Rudraksha bead. At this point, I thought the ordeal was over. Apparently, I was wrong.

The Sadhu now REMOVED the snake from around his neck, and much to my displeasure, proceeded to place it around my neck! At first, I hesitated, but the Sadhu calmed me by saying "Darro mat beta, Baba kuch nahin karega". I now sat there, frozen, with a large snake wrapped around my neck, hissing, and the Sadhu continued to recite more mantras. After what seemed an eternity, he again asked me to repeat "Bolo Ganga Maiyan ki jai!” which I did with a terrified yelp. Finally, mercifully, the Sadhu removed the snake, 'blessed' me, and proceeded onwards, as I sat, somewhat shaken, not sure of what just happened to me.

What is really weird about my experience (other than the fact that I didn’t pass out when the snake was wrapped around my neck) was that for some strange reason, I didn’t feel cheated. A shady looking Sadhu had just practically threatened me with a snake, took off with my money, and for some reason, I felt richer for the experience! Perhaps I’m some sort of fanatic. Maybe I’m kind of a fool…

Over time what I have come to realize is that for the same reason that I can’t explain why I actually enjoyed being cheated, no one will ever be able to describe in words what it is that makes India, ‘Incredible’. It’s just something you just have to go and experience on your own, be it the good, the bad, and the ugly. People of Indian origin, and Indians themselves, travel throughout the world to experience different cultures, to view different relics or monuments, or just to party and have a good time. While there is absolutely nothing wrong with this, often, they neglect to travel their own country. In the midst of the daily grind, and the myriad of problems which plague it, one forgets about just how spectacular and unique India really is. It is a fascinating country with a fascinating way of life. Most importantly, it will always be your country, and I suppose what I have come to recognize is that one should try and discover their own country before they go around exploring others. For me, apparently all it took was just took a shady looking Sadhu, a 50 rupee note, and his seven foot long hissing snake to make me realize this!

The Confused Desi?

Original Publish Date: October 28, 2007

Coming back to university to do my Masters degree means many things. One of which is of course, meeting new people and making new friends. Since I am of Indian decent, it only seems natural that I hang around with the Desi crowd at UBC. Most of these people are ‘FOBs’, basically those who were born and raised in India and have come here to do their Masters/PhD degrees.

Over time, some of these ‘FOBs’ have become my very good friends. However, a topic that sometimes comes up in discussions is my lack of ‘CBCD’ness… that is, apparently because I am Canadian born, I am not confused enough. Every time anyone says this, I really do become confused. Why should I, or any other person born in this country who has roots in India be confused?

What is it that makes us confused? That we can’t speak our own language… no wait, most of us can speak at least one Indian language along with English. Maybe its religion… no wait, most of us have been accompanying our parents to the Mandir/Masjid/Gurdwara for years. Pop culture? But some of us like Bollywood movies too, and I can’t think of anyone who doesn’t like to Bhangra! Hmmn… let me think. Not knowing about Indian politics? Yeah, that must be it. We are confused because we don’t know that AIADMK stands for ‘All India Anna Dravida Munnetra Khazagam’. Of course I wonder about just how many North Indians actually know what AIADMK stands for…

There are definitely different types of Canadian born Indians living in this country. Perhaps due to upbringing, or due to personal preference, there are those who are proud of their heritage, and respect it (Indo Canadians), and those who do not (just Canadian). Either way, it’s a conscious decision, and nobody is confused about it.

During my last visit to India, I noticed a few things. One of which was that the country was becoming rapidly ‘westernized’. There are those who still want to maintain tradition, decorum, and everything else that makes India, ‘India’. But I wonder if the average urban Indian student these days knows more about Shakespeare or Kalidas? The economic theories of Adam Smith or Chanakya? If the average urban Indian student doesn’t know the things that are actually truly ‘Indian’ does that mean that he/she is confused as well? Overall, I think I experienced a 5000 year old civilization which is becoming rapidly overwhelmed, and whose younger generation is struggling with wanting to become ‘westernized’ and yet remain ‘Indian’ at the same time.

My point is that the line between the average urban Indian, and the average Indian born in Toronto is slowly becoming blurred. Why do FOBs and CBCDs tend not to interact with each other? Well in general I would say that each group feels the other is arrogant and exclusive. Hmmn… perhaps there is more in common than we thought.

That’s not to say there’s NO difference between being Indian born and Canadian born. There is no question that those of us who are born here have missed out on some of the benefits that must have come with growing up in India. We may never know what the ‘immigrant experience’ of packing up and moving to a foreign country is like. But on the other hand, those of us born here have had the benefit of growing up in, experiencing and balancing two different cultures. We are proud to be Canadian AND Indian. And I for one, am cool with that.