He stands there

People are getting ready for the midnight mass on the eve of Christmas and he stands there on the streets of Leuven - a historical town destroyed twice by German troops during both World Wars. I happened to visit this place yesterday and saw him too. He is not alone, a bicycle and a musical instrument is there, which he plays. This instrument looks like a saxophone but sounds like a flute. He plays it wonderfully, eyes closed and no care whether people drop some coins. This was perhaps the best site I saw there. Much appealing to me than the art exhibition of Russian avant-garde movement, which I visited in Brussels only a few hours before this memorable site of Leuven.

I just wonder why this extra-ordinary person's financial condition is not even ordinary? I am happy that he still stands there - like his town which still stands even after being destroyed twice by Germans.

Bon Weekend

This was certainly the best and the most happening weekend I had here. Suddenly coming across a restaurant called Namaste and having Paneer Dil-Bahaar with Kulcha and Elaichi Rice (never had this dish in India!) was enough to make the weekend great, but much more happened. A friend of my BSc days visited me from Denmark, we watched King Kong together in a multiplex, went to Brussels, moved around, did shopping and now I have my own DigiCam! And then today we went to Luxembourg (read Look-zaam-boorg). It is a rich place where practically every second building is a bank! Lots of photos and videos are there which are yet to be transferred to the computer.

Also came across two Indian restaurants called Taj Mahal and Bombay Inn, both names very close to my heart. Shall go there sometime to fill my stomach, to empty my wallet, and above all - to speak in Hindi with waiters!

Planning to make the next weekend too, as bon as possible. Have to prepare a talk for tomorrow.

The Shawshank Redemption

Some things are better late than never. Though lately, I happened to watch yesterday a 1994 movie, The Shawshank Redemption - one of the most beautiful movies I have seen in recent times. The movie is about a person in a prison for a life sentence, about his inmates, and most importantly about hope. Today on IMDB I found that the movie is all time great - ranked second!

The courageous attempt of Andy (played by Tim Robbins) to escape from prison reminded me of "Kitani naavo mein kitani baar" a Jnanpith awarded work by Agyeya, particularly the lines "kuhaase mein pehchaanta hua tumhaara hi prabha-mandal - aashvast, aaklaant... main".

Only thing I can say about the movie - one who doesn't watch it, will probably miss something.

A meeting with East in the West!

Matar-Paneer and Naan followed by a Ras-Malai! It's a dream food here and the dream came true yesterday. Thanks to that Pakistani shop in Brussels!

Yesterday, I happened to visit a Pakistani shop and looking at the stuff they were selling, I felt so homely. Daal, Rice, Pickles, Samosa, MDH Chat Masala and "Heat and Eat" stuff like Daal Makhaani, Baigan Bharta, Dum Aaloo, Matar-Paneer... and what not! I immediately added Bombay Biryani to my cart (just because its name sounded very homely - in India I never heard anything by this name!). After sometime I realised that cart was too heavy to carry, so I stopped picking more things. Best was yet to come... my conversation with the shop-keeper in "Hindustani". He told me that most of the things they sell, come from Karachi, Bombay and London. I was happy to realise that a political wall raised long back on a land did not divide the culture, food and life-style of its people. While making the bill, the shop-keeper realised my taste for sweets (since I had picked so many sweets!) and asked "Bhai, aap gaajar ka halwa nahi lenge kya"? Yum, yum (I thought) and said "kyon nahi, lekin mujhe dikhai nahi diya ki kahaan rakha hai halwa, deejiye na 250 gram". He smiled and said "aap poochhiye to har cheez haazir hai", turned around and shouted "Arif Bhai, 250 gram halwa lagaana". Again some familar words went into my ears!

It was a great experience. Would love to go that place again and again. By the way, gaajar ka halwa was simply fundoo!

Foie Gras: A Cruel Food

Yesterday after the PhD viva of a student, there was a party to celebrate. The only thing I could take was Orange Juice. While drinking juice, I was offered something called Foie Gras (read Fwah Grah). I asked what it was? And the response was a horrible story. Foie Gras literally means "big liver". A duck is forced to eat food against its will, so as to grow the size of the liver. There are special long metal feeders which are inserted in duck's throat several times a day. There are pressure pumps on the other end of the feeder! This process continues for several weeks. When the liver is big enough (more than 10 times its normal healthy size), the bird is killed and the liver is taken out! I was shocked! I was told that it is very tasty and a great French delicacy.

How cruel the person who discovered this delicacy would have been? And I wonder how this algorithm to "create a great taste" came to his mind? Chheeeee.....

Three Myths - One Anwser!

People here seem to have great mis-conception about India. One of the queries I came across - "People in India do not use blankets"? What made you think so, I asked. The person told that "Ramanujan did not use a blanket in England and died of cold"! Logical thought indeed!

Now the three myths which I came across:

• "Indians are vegetarian, non-alcholic and worship an idol after getting up daily in the morning".
• "Level of education in India is very poor".

And yesterday while I was surfing some bollywood news on rediff.com, a guy peeped onto the monitor and said,

• I see lot of Indian movies because "Indian girls are beautiful"!

and the only thing I could do - I gave him a smile.

There is just one single anwser to all three myths, "Boss, go to TIFR and see"!

PS: Aum Shanti! Shanti!! Shanti!!!

St. Nicholas Day

Yesterday was St. Nicholas day and in the night someone had secretly put a nice packet of Chocolates and Fruits on my door! Great surprise!! I must be one of the oldest "kids" to get such a gift. Thanks to the person (or the Saint?) who kept that packet.

The morning?

What exactly is the morning? Is it when Sun rises in your locality, or is it when your clock is, say at 6:30 am? I never botherd about this question before, because in India there is not much difference in two phenomenons. But at a place like this, when the Sun-rise in winter is at 8:30 and people go for their work around 7:30, it does matter. Thank God, I am not bound to any fixed schedule! I decide daily to get up at 7:00, keep the alarm clock ready for it and then at 7:00 when the alarm rings, I realise that even the Sun is sleeping, so what's the point in me getting up! So I turn off the alarm and sleep again till Sun wakes me up. I am used to get up this way only! And today when I got up (at 8:15, I sleep here at around 11:00 pm!), a poem from my Class III Hindi book came into my mind. I distictly remember it was the first poem in the book and was written by Ayodhya Singh Upadhyay 'Harioudh' almost 100 years back! The poem (to the best of my recollection abilities), where a mother wakes up her child is:

"utho laal ab aankhein kholo
paani laayi hoon, mu.h dholo

beeti raat kamal-dal phoole
unke ooper bhanvre jhoole

chidiya chahak uthi pedo par
behne lagi hawa ati sundar

bhor huyi sooraj ug aaya
nabh mein huyi sunhari kaaya

aasmaan mein chhaayi laali
hawa bahi sukh dene waali

nanhi-nanhi kiranein aayein
phool ha.se kaliyaan muskaayein

itana sundar samay na kho
mere pyaare ab mat so"

Pata nahi yahaan bhor kab hoti hai?

Translating feelings?

Feelings expressed through one language can not be translated into the other. Sometime back I used give to such an example - a song from the movie Mughal-e-Azam. Starting lines of this beautiful song by Shakeel Badayuni are:

"khuda nigeh-baan ho tumhaara
dhadakte dil ka payaam le lo
tumhaari duniya se ja rahe hain
utho hamaara salaam le lo".

Well, what motivated this post is not this song but something else. Yesterday for the first time in my life I could understand the fine resolution between two Hindi words: kriya and karma - and I feel there is no translation available which "preserves" this fine resolution. In Geeta Pravachan, a commentary of Bhagavad Geeta, Acharya Vinobha Bhave explains this difference between kriya and karma with the "following" (kind of) example: In a class of students making noise, the class monitor shouts "do not make noise", and the class is silent. However for the class teacher, it is enough to put a finger on her lips and whisper "shhh....". If an inspector comes to the school, then the class is already silent. The presene of inspector is enough! In the three cases, the karma is same but kriyas are not, and can be categorised as teevra, saumya and sookshma.

The best "translation" of karma and kriya, I could find only in the language of Physics - kriya = (force) X (distance) and karma = displacement. Any better explaination or translation?

Nirmal Verma and his river

This post, in some sense is a continuation of an earlier post, though it is self-contained and can be read individually.

Nirmal Verma (@LOC, @Wikipedia) is not an unknown figure in Hindi literature. In July this year, I came to know that Hindi books of NCERT have changed and are available with new names (Samvaad, Vaasanti) as opposed to Parag, Swati in my time. I went to a near by book shop and picked them. One of the first few Chapters I came across in one of these books was titled "Mere liye Bhartiya hone ka arth" - The meaning of being an Indian to me. Such a poetic, yet very accurate and rational essay I had never read before, and the author was Nirmal Verma.

In the beginning of this essay he recalls one of his childhood memories. Once he was travelling with his mother by a train, a river-bridge came and his mother asked him to throw some coins in the river and fold his hand (a typical Indian way to pay respect to elderly ones). The author did it. He was told by the mother that he should love and respect all rivers as much as her, The own mother!

Indians are told in their childhood to call a river, a cow, the land (Bharatmata), or a goddess (maan Saraswati) etc., a Mother. And when a mother tells her child to do so, it requires a feeling of great sacrifice from mother's side. Logically speaking, a mother has exclusive right on her child and she should be unhappy if her child starts calling something (that too non-living) as mother! But life does not always go logically and this "illogical" feeling of Indian mothers is what makes them unique.

Coming back to the essay - The essay ends with the following beautiful lines:

"... lekin us shaam maine uski ek jhalak dekhi thi jab maine apni maan ke kehne par pul ke neeche bahti nadi mein paise fenke the. Meri maan ab nahi hain, lekin sochta hoon wah nadi ab bhi hai. Prarthana karta hoon ki bilkul sookh nahi gayi hai."

The little kid grows up and tries to locate his mother in the river. So after reading this essay how can I resist if someone tells me that a river is non-living!

• PS: A friend helped me recalling the excerpts from the essay. Thanks to her.