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Travelogue - Prague

One of the reasons I haven't been blogging so much recently is the crazyspringsummer travelling that has been undertaken. Finally, as I get some breathing space at home in Pune, here's a short travelogue I wrote on the Wanderers' blog recently on Prague.

Most people will tell you that Paris, London, Berlin, Rome one of the other well-known cities is the most beautiful in Europe. While it's not easy to make a categorical statement about it, my recent trip to Prague put it right up there with the best in the continent. (Disclaimer: I haven't come close to seeing all the cities in Europe, but have seen a few.)

Prague is a very underrated city in the sense that it's not usually the first place to come to mind when one talks about Europe. However, friends who had visited Prague vouched for it and this was my impetus to visit the city.

The municipal house by day

The beautiful ceiling of the municipal house

Once the center of the world, Prague today again is a bustling city. It has seen many rulers in its time, and it's only since 1989 - when Czechoslovakia became a democracy that Prague took off as a tourist destination. The city has some gorgeous monuments, great architecture and one of the most thriving classical music scenes in Europe. The gorgeous Jewish quarter, the old town square, the river side of Vlatva are just some of the main attractions of the city. I was also fortunate enough to to experience the exceptional Royal Philharmonic perform Mozart and Strauss at the lovely Municipal House. I'm no classical music afficionado, but these guys were real professionals. The ballet and singing also added to the experience, but for me the music was the standout aspect.

I'm reliably told that Prague has a great nightlife, but sadly that's not my thing. Whatever be the status of Prague the party place, Prague the city, is breathtaking at night. No photograph does justice to the skyline as you walk along the river - the castle on a hill in the distance, the illuminated buildings and bridges.

The Prague Castle by night

Pork Goulash with white bread dumplings

The food wasn't spectacular in the Italian sense of the word. But it was very good. We went to a restaurant named after Marie Antoinette's mother (go figure), which we were told serves traditional Czech food. Although we did play it safe by ordering pork goulash and a solid Czech beer, the food was wholesome, the meat tender, the service hospitable and the Medovnik (a honey cake topped with crushed walnuts) a delight. The white bread dumplings served alongside the bread reminded me of sannas served at Mangalorean dinners, to be had with a curry. There are also local liqueurs to be had such as the Becherovka flavoured with cinnamon, anise seed and more herbs.

Worm spirit (No, I didn't have any)

The people. Hmm... that's an interesting one. Perhaps because I travelled from the Netherlands, the people came across as not particularly friendly. They weren't courteous, but were never really rude either. They didn't smile so much, but the fact that they don't speak much English also adds to the distance. But at no point did we feel unwelcome or unsafe, even though we walked in the city till past midnight. I read only after my trip that the city has some problems with pickpocketing. Thankfully I didn't experience it first hand.

It's also a relatively cheap city as far as Europe goes, especially for food and drink, although I have heard of restaurants overcharging people by charging them double tax as well as taxi drivers taking tourists for a ride. One thing you shouldn't try to do in Prague is try to pronounce all the names. Many words and names sound like they are missing vowels, but don't tell the locals that. They probably know their spellings.

All in all, Prague's a gorgoeus city - worth visiting and spending time in. I know I'm going there a second time!

Cricket Cup World Cup Cricket Cup World Cup

© Getty Images

It's an honour to watch this man lead our team with such dignity and poise.

© AFP

It's been a joy to watch this man bat and conduct himself the way he has for the past 21 years. I don't know if I will be able to watch cricket when he bows out.

© Associated Press

It's historic to have witnessed this. I can die happy now. 

What a World Cup it's been - India were favourites going into it and came out on top. I'd never have guessed that we could withstand so much pressure, but an Indian fan is never pessimistic (or even realistic) about these things. Thank you Indian cricket team for all the memories.

For those of you saying this isn't a 'World Cup', 17.5% of the world's population parties tonight (Credit: Friend on Facebook). If that isn't a World Cup, I don't know what is.

PS: If you don't know what the subject of this blog post is all about, you missed the song of the cup.

The touch of India

An ancient Indian saying goes: What thou shalt not take to heart, thou shalt take in your hand. And it's true. We have never shied away from the sense of touch. Around the world, millions of westerners are only now waking up to our ways.

The recent revolution, of course, is due to a fellow whose surname is Jobs. This man is making billions off a simple human need - the need to touch. It's what we Indians have always done. When we eat our food, we touch it. When Zakir Hussain plays his tabla, he touches it. When we want to show respect to our elders, we touch their feet. Even when we wash ourselves after our morning jobs (no pun intended), we clean by touch. The average Indian has no problems touching food, assorted body parts or percussion instruments.

However, the poor, deprived western world envies our ability to touch. After their capitalist companies forced them to buy toilet paper, spoons, forks, drum sticks and plectrums, their innate urge to touch now manifests itself in the latest technological breakthroughs.Jobs can't get enough touching
(Image credit: via @dhempe on Twitter)

They envy us in general, I think. When we were winning at hockey, they made the pitches turf. Now that our guys are killing at the spelling bees, they want to simplify spelling. The iPods, iPads, iTouches and iMats threaten to steal from us our touchy feely culture. (Aside, iNamitha is now on Twitter RT'ing intense stuff about people giving up drinking because of beggars. Now if that isn't touching, I don't know what is.)

But we are not to be outdone easily. Our march on touching shall not be stopped by a few phones and pads. Where they fail, we will make up. Our young men will continue to touch women as (in)appropriate. We will now regulate our touchiness to the extent that one of our major states is going to have a 'culture policy' that will define what is too touchy to be touched. Heck we'll even be a little contrarian in our greeting. If they shake hands, we will touching and say 'namaste'.

If you think I'm going a touch overboard, sample one of ToI's best headlines in recent times: Fans touch Big B, star touched by fans. You can't expect any better from an ordinary blogger like me.

As the ancient Indian saying goes, 'Dil pe mat le, haath pe le'. Stay in touch.

Travel photos from Holland and around

This is not the sort of thing I usually do on my blog, but given how quiet it's been in here for the past month or so, thought I'd upload some photographs which I've been recently been clicking on my travels.

Plus there's a BlogAdda contest going on. And to all those questions that have been flooding in, no this is not going to become a contest only blog.







Keukenhof in the Netherlands is known for its annual flower show, the highlights of which are the tulip gardens in all kinds of colours. These caught my eye, I found it hard to decide between the two. Which one of these do you like?



Aah. Barcelona. The land of Gaudi, sangria, Camp nou and Tapas. Here, an over-exposed shot nicely captures the night we walked there. It was bright, vibrant, colorful and alive. This picture is worth four adjectives. :)



When visiting the leaning tower of Pisa, Italy, many skip the Baptistry which is one of the monuments inside the complex. I found it to be very intriguing, especially the design which makes a single note sound like a chord. (Example) The structure is not round, but divided in eight equal parts, like the notes in a scale, and these blend with each other. Here, I used my (believe it or not) cellphone camera to capture light streaming in from two windows.



Among many things, Holland is famous for its water-related engineering feats, and its windmills. The dikes are present all over the country. This photograph was taken at Kinderdijk (translation: child dike) which is just off Rotterdam and has many such picturesque windmills. Everywhere you look in this world heritage site, it's a postcard moment.



Antwerp is just a couple of hours by train from where I live in Holland and isn't really known for its zoo. At least that's not what I went for. While inside, I found this interesting bit of art (?) in it. A tree with a bicycle for its eyes. What do you think?

These photos are also on my Flickr stream. Keep checking in, who knows, I might probably add more later.

PS: This contest is sponsored by pringoo.com, a site that lets you print custom t-shirts, stickers and more. Heck, who knows you could probably print one of my awesome photos from here. ;)

Sugar fronts and cyclical reproductions

Today's ToI has a headline 'PM admits failure on sugar front'

"If there is a failure of ---, it is with regard to sugar... we have not been able to find a practical and pragmatic way to deal with the cyclical behaviour of sugarcane reproduction"

(emboldening and ommission mine)

The statement, of course, was no consolation for this dejected soul who has had a difficult life because of repeated frontal failures by parent sugars.

In unrelated news, another long awaited product for men is finally out in the market.

Yes, while the wife is sincerely hunting for groceries in the retail store, I'm off snickering at funny sounding products and taking pictures. It's quite a shame.

Final destination. Err... almost.

So after some dillying and much dallying, the wife and I have arrived in the Netherlands. There was much consternation on the way here what with me misplacing my documents and losing access to my Forex card pin, all of which I had neatly placed in the file of 'most important documents'. This file I promptly left at the Chennai airport, making the 'safe file' the single most foolhardy concentration of risk in my life.

In the weeks leading upto the trip, I was convinced many times that I was not supposed to arrive here. A-la the 'final destination' series, the signs were there all over the place. An autorickshaw driver almost getting me killed by going the wrong way on a one-way flyover, the Lufthansa person at the counter asking me to lose the luggage to arrive at the right weight, the attorneys screwing up my visa application, and upon arrival a coin being swallowed by a hungry phone machine when I tried to call the driver who hadn't arrived were just some of the events that had me convinced that this was not meant to be. Heck, every time there was a little turbulence, I found myself thinking, "This is it." However, wonder of wonders I have arrived to new experiences and challenges.

First impressions. Autumn is on. (View outside my house)

This place could sure use some of the Chennai sun. Heck, even 1% should do the trick. I was admonished by some of my friends here when I turned the heating in my home up to 26 degrees. They complained that my house was an oven and visiting us made their baby sick. And here I was thinking that 26 was cool, prime weather. Need to get the Chennai out of me very quickly.

Second impressions, there was most excellent girl-girl action at the airport arrival, and there are numerous porn channels on TV and nudie books on sale at the supermarkets. Yes, yes, there may be a lot more to experience in this country, but what to do, my mind is like this only. Also, people are generally cordial and everyone seems to have a dishwasher. Whether these two facts are related, I do not know.

Thanks to friends' advice, so far I have discovered gorgeous stroopwaffels and an awesome Italian place with the most indulgeous ham, egg and cheese pizza you could ever imagine. I intend to try the cumin cheese some time which, I'm told, rocks. Also, I have been warned of the perils of walking on what are dedicated 'cycling paths'. (There are no hawkers on the pavements!) I know, how stupid, right? I mean, you just cycle anywhere you want where I come from, and we fear not death, because travelling by any mode of transport is dangerous enough.

So anyway, I have now somewhat settled down and I will be kind enough to provide my reader(s) with some more of the entertainment that they have suffered from in the past. Heck, maybe I might even be regular. Who knows? It's a brave, new world.

Naughty commandments

Tomorrow: Thou shalt not sin, munchkins.

Press Help for F1

After Force India finished 2nd in the Belgian Grand Prix, Dr Mallya tried to convince the very obstinate sports minister, Dr Gill about recognizing Formula 1 as a sport. Here's what happened:

Mallya: Good evening Dr Gill. Hope you're having a good times.
Gill: Tell me Dr Mallya, I don't have time. I'm a leader you know, not a cheerleader.
Mallya: Sir, I've come for a request. This is about recognizing Formula 1 as a sport.
Gill: Is this formula some new drink of yours or...
Mallya: No sir, it's racing using specially designed cars in circuits...
Gill: Ah that! But we have already decided no? Then why are you here again, Dr Mallya. Please don't try to Force India.
Mallya: But F1 is a sport! Just like tennis or cricket.
Gill: Sorry to spoil your cheers. But I disagree. It is entertainment.
Mallya: And what about our home-brewed IPL? It's the biggest entertainment event in the country!
Gill: That is cricket baba. It is all about human endeavour and spirit. Not your kind of spirit Dr Mallya, but real, human spirit.
Mallya: But isn't that also entertainment?
Gill: See, we don't mind if sports has entertainment, but entertainment cannot be sports, and that is final. Stop mixing your drinks.
Mallya: *peeved* This is the time to act, minister. My team's performance has taken F1's popularity to a new high...
Gill: You're always talking of highs. I don't know why you are so interested in wasting Fuel. Is it because it's a competing brand? *laughs* Jokes apart, these are the nation's resources, for which two brothers are already fighting. We cannot have one more king fishing in our waters.
Mallya: F1 really is a sport! Look at how much weight these drivers lose after every race! Arjuna Ranatunga had a pot belly even till the end of his career.
Gill: I cannot comment on other country's sportsmen, Dr Mallya. And besides, do you think it's wise for you to talk about beer bellies? Anyway, you know that we are not exactly 'doctors' right? It's only titular.
Mallya: *dreamily* Aahhh titular... good times...
Gill: Snap out of it, Dr Mallya!
Mallya: Sorry about that sir, but all you need to do is recognize it as a sport, you can really help F1 in the country.
Gill: F1 may mean help, Dr Mallya, but helping F1 is going to be a Royal Challenge.
Mallya: Do you mean to say there is absolutely nothing *wink* we can do about it?
Gill: Dr, your black money and White Mischief are getting you nowhere. Stop wining. Our decision is final. Now please leave. I have to go make number 1. Mera number 1.

Original photo location: www.newstrackindia.com/gallery/pictures/3304

No sticks, no bills...

... No shit.

RamaRaju Surgical Cotton

Based on this photo, I'd say the Raju brothers have already identified blood sucking as a corecompetence.

So darling

So darling! That's what millions of Federer fans must be calling Robin 'Mad Scientist' Soderling as he knocked out Federer's arch-nemesis and 4-time French Open winner Rafael Nadal in four sets. Just to put it in context, this is Nadal's first defeat ever on the courts of Rolland Garros! FIRST DEFEAT EVER!

Not that it's definite, but Roger Federer's dream of winning at Paris and completing a career slam may finally come true because of a man called Robin Soderling.

On another note, I had just assumed that Nadal would dominate the scene once Federer was dethroned, but it seems that no one will dominate the scene again as Federer did in his time, not even Nadal.

The French Open title will be won by someone other than Nadal this year - who'd have believed that line at the beginning of this year?

And for Fedex fans like me, we hope that he does a repeat of the 2008 US Open, the only slam he won last year. Go Roger!

The Chennai book launch of Amit Varma's 'My Friend Sancho'

There was a warning that the news of Prabhakaran's killing may cause riots in the city, so the company that I work for let me go one hour early today. No doubt they'll keep me back one hour late somewhere in the near future.

So, given the risk of venturing out into the city on a dangerous day, half my blog's readership (my friend PJ) and I decided to do what most rational souls would have done - travel for about 10-15 km to the Landmark store where India's most powerful blogger (or something like that), Amit Varma was making an appearance to promote his book.

The book reading was good, although for those of you interested in celebrity trivia, Amit pronounces that as 'dat'. The passage that Amit started out with contained swear words and orgasmic sounds; these were greeted by silence and a muffled gasp by the Chennai audience who are not used to such potty mouths. And after the discussion with Sharanya and another reading, came the funniest part of the session - audience Q&A. Some gems from the evening below:

1. I am a journalist, and as a journalist I know what journalists go through. Since I'm a journalist who's written a couple of books called '?????' and 'The ???? of ????', my journalistic question to you is about journalistic writing. What is it?

2. Why don't you start a website?

3. WHO IS THIS YOUR FRIEND SANCHI?

The last question came from a really grumpy but cute old gentleman. The end of the session was followed by the book signing and the most anticipated part of the evening - snacks. Unfortunately, my Ayurvedic diet mandates that bread cannot be eaten, so I had to keep away from the sandwiches. :(

Oddly, Amit seemed to remember me and insisted on getting his photograph taken with me. Here's the picture we took after a nice, short conversation about writing, Mumbai, blogging, wives (all good), work and books.


Amit signed my book with, "It's nice to finally meet you." The feeling was mutual Amit. :)

Also, check out Sunil's more detailed coverage of the event here.

Day 24 - IPL 2

Another day of awful commentary, awful fielding, and great cricket.

Deccan Chargers started out with a bit of a setback. Gilly got Bucknored early in the match, or should I say bloody Baxtered? Still the Dwayne Smith-Andrew Symonds show pushed DC to a very good total of 166. Dwayne Smith's superb hitting gave one a little taste of what the great Sir Richards would have beeen doing to bowler's morales more than a couple of decades ago. There's no better sight than a West Indian batsman in full flow, is there?

Everyone's favourite team Royals started much like their opposition. Their Smith (Graeme) got slightly Bucknored again, this time by Kumara Dharmasena who has been fairly good in the tournament. From there though, things went downhill. A collapse was triggered after Asnodkar's run out and there was really nothing left to do but meekly surrender, making a scrappy 113. For a team that is supposed to be vying to retain their title this year, they certainly do seem to be a little light on batting.

On a lighter note, some 'expert' commentary exchange from today - Ranjit Fernando for an appeal, "Was it pitching outside leg stump?" The ball had actually pitched outside the off stump. Ramiz Raja replies, "You're absolutely right Ranjit. It was plumb, ball pitched in line and was hitting the stumps."
Are they even listening to each other?

Another one from Ranjit, "Yusuf Pathan goes right down the throat of Dwayne Smith, down in the deep." :-|

And is it just me or are the cheerleaders getting err... more s(k)inful looking? Esp, the Deccan Chargers and the Rajasthan Royals ladies. Well, something good had to come of moving the tournament out of India. Va-va-voom, I say!

pic courtesy: rainbowskill.com

FyF contest winning photos

This is me - ecstatic on winning the second prize of the second caption contest at Fly, you fools. I did it on purpose, you know. Who wants to come first in a second contest anyway? Hmph.

As an aside, I must start charging Saad for the free publicity. Ahh what the hell, one bar of chocolate is enough to buy my soul. Thanks Saad. :)

Get ready for more Charu!

As a consequence of moving the series abroad (or so they say), the kind folks at IPL have decided to have a five-minute break at the end of every ten overs. You know what that means - more 'brilliant', 'shining' and 'luminous' commentary from a man who was fired from a vague position of a team that did poorly at last year's IPL. Ironically, I'm hoping that they really stuff those five minutes with ads, else we could see more jam sessions with this dude and that Arun Lal fellow, whose ramblings make even the ongoing India-NZ test series seem like 'The hottie and the nottie'. Left: Charu seen in his previous television appearance at 'Yo Momma'. He didn't make it very far. Image courtesy: daijiworld.com

The side effects of unemployment

Don't look at me, I didn't report it.

Movie Review - "Sorry, bhai!"

Now that we've resiliently moved on from the terrorist attacks, it's time to do a little movie review. Today we feature 'Sorry, bhai!'.

Bollywood has been getting bolder about challenging the value systems portrayed on screen so far, from extra-marital affairs, the Lolita style 'Nishabdh', the wildly controversial 'Fire', and even the boring 'Dostana'. Not that it's always a good thing, as some of these movies prove. 'Sorry, bhai!' is another movie that, at it's heart, challenges some fundamental 'values' that were the staple of Bollywood films for years.

The film is largely a flashback of a family comprising Sharman Joshi, Sanjay Suri, Chitrangada Singh (Va-va-voom!), Boman Irani, a couple of kids and a deceased mother. It starts out on a humorous note with Joshi, the mad scientist trying to prove the existence of tele-kinetic energy with the help of a plastic dog called 'Einstein'. His absent-minded-scientist forgetfulness and boyish acting is the source of much of the film's humor.

As the trailers show, this movie is obviously one of a younger brother doing something he's not proud of with his brother's fiancee. (Hence, the title 'Sorry, bhai!'). That is the only spoiler you'll read here. The heart of the movie is the nicely woven chemistry between the members of the dysfunctional family and the daughter-in-law to be, owing in no small part to the veterans Boman Irani and Shabana Azmi. Boman Irani is the typical happy dad, and Shabana does a great job of portraying a tough-as-nails mother with a softer side, but the movie brings out their weak and strong moments well, making them more human. The very hot Chitrangada Singh also does a good job of playing the 'Draupadi' of the film as someone in the audience pointed out. I take this opportunity to make a special mention for the loser who kept screaming his opinions throughout the movie. Fuck you. May your mouth be riddled with worms.

Speaking of negatives, the only problem I had with the film was the rather slow and lack lustre last forty-five minutes or so. It took away from the interaction between the characters and the songs seemed wrongly timed. There was a little too much boo-hoo-life's-so-tough for my liking and it certainly took the sheen off the enormous expectations that the first half built.

All, in all, I had a feeling that this would be a damp squib and the only reason I watched it was that I had a few hours to kill; it definitely exceeded my expectations which were rock bottom to start with. Worth a watch, for sure.

My rating: 6.5 on 10

Mumbai under fire, Chennai under water

While Mumbai is reeling under fire from terrorists, Chennai is underwater due to rain from cyclone Nisha and poor drainage.

Making the most of it: A child plays in the water outside her colony at Adyar while her grandfather (not in frame) takes her picture.

Beauteous machinations

Tel Aviv university reporters have reportedly built a beauty machine which apparently "turns pictures of your own ordinary face into that of a cover model". Not that I'm not vain, but my own ordinary face is my own ordinary business and I don't need some machine telling me what I should look like. From what I can see of the three pictures, it changes other features except the shape of your nose, I wonder then if it would have any effect on Shilpa Shetty's photograph from her pre-rhinoplasty days. .

Still, curiosity calls for an upload when the web service is finally published.

Samples of photographs manipulated by TAU's "Beauty Machine. " Original photographs in top row; manipulated photographis in bottom row.

As an aside, I can imagine why this dude thought of creating the machine. Just kidding, professor!