Breakfast and Frankfurt

I thought that I will take a break for breakfast and then continue with my writing on the flight. But consuming the breakfast was not as easy as I had thought. When they had supplied snacks the first time, it was contained in a small box with out any accompaniments and I could just open the box with out difficulty and eat the contents. This breakfast was an elaborate experience. I did not know that we were required to be nimble with our fingers and also possess the combined skills of a juggler and an acrobat to eat breakfast in style on a flight. The breakfast tray contained lot many things like bread, rolls and some cooked stuff in one box and accompaniments like cheese, butter, yoghurt, cream, jam, sugar, ketchup and water in tightly sealed separate plastic containers. Taking the individual sealed packets out of the larger sealed container and arranging all of them on the small extendable tray attached to the seats in it self was an achievement, let alone opening and eating them. A little effort would not open them. An extra effort would tear the packet and spill the stuff and also make the elbows go out of control knocking off the co passengers stuff out of his tray. And I had to keep the pillow and blanket balanced on my knees while doing this exercise. But I managed to open them and ate all that was left in the containers after I had opened them. My co passenger spilled some juice on to my lap and so, had lost the right to complain about my smearing his elbows with butter and jam. I very wisely kept the packet of fork, spoon and knife untouched and used my fingers, thereby avoiding disasters.


I was exhausted with the effort of eating the breakfast and after the tray was cleared, tried to sleep a bit. Moreover, the passenger who was in front of me decided to push her backrest further back and there was no chance of opening my writing pad. I wanted to continue my observation of the progress that our air craft was making, but the airline had decided to entertain us with the antiques of Shahid kapoor. I switched off the monitor and switched on the music channels. There were some twenty eight channels of western music all of which sounded like the wailing of various animals to my uninitiated ears and one bollywood channel which sounded like all the animals howling together. I switched off everything, closed my eyes and tried some meditation and failed. I think that I did doze a bit, for, when I opened my eyes again, the monitor showed the plane hovering over Frankfurt and was giving out detailed instructions about the layout of the airport, various terminals and what we were expected to do on arrival. We landed at Frankfurt right on time, 27th May 2010, 07.35 local time.



In spite of having heard that Frankfurt airport is very big, I was expecting our arrival and departure gates to be close to each other as they were in the same terminal. Soon after arrival we wanted to locate the departure gate and then spend the five hours that we had there, leisurely. We started in the direction of gate A62 and after a walk of what seemed like a kilometer and half, and a ‘sky train’ ride of another kilometer, found that we were only half way through. By then, we had reached a large hall from which we could look down and see a lot of shops, restaurants and lounges. The area looked very attractive and we were tempted to abandon the search for gate A62, go down and spend some time there. I even managed to find the gate leading to the place but was stopped by an officer at the entrance. I explained that we were in transit, had about four hours for ourselves and intended looking around. He advised us to do all the looking around from where ever I was at the moment and added that if we go out of the gate, we need to enter again through another gate miles away, passing through three levels of security and assured me that, by then, our flight to Detroit would be half way over the Atlantic. We gave up the idea of sight seeing in Frankfurt airport and trudged along towards gate A62.


This departure gate, which I was expecting to be a small opening with limited space around, turned out to be a lounge of the size of a tennis court having comfortable seating arrangement with the toilets and food kiosks close by. It was very pleasant to lounge and move around. We freshened ourselves, ate the food that we had carried and I went to buy a bottle of water. I had heard that Frankfurt is expensive but had not expected a bottle of water to cost five dollars and half cup of coffee, three. I made my first transaction in foreign currency. Even though I paid five dollars for a bottle of water I did not feel bad. That is how airports are. But I really felt cheated to find that a cup of coffee costing three dollars was really one fourth of an ‘indian cup’, that is, half of what we get on Indian railways! And worse, it was not even hot. Coffee that is not hot is not coffee. Coffee left a bad taste in the mouth, but otherwise Frankfurt airport was fine.


The Frankfurt airport experience reminded me of the Maya Sabha built by Pandavas in Khandavaprastha which flummoxed Duryodhana. What looked like a door was not a passage. A thick glass wall was actually an entrance and I was wondering what I should do when the lift doors did not open on reaching our level, when my wife noticed that it had opened at the back!.


The sight of an aircraft landing and taking off always fascinates me. When ever I go to an airport to receive or drop somebody, I try to find a vantage point from where I can see take offs and landings and spend some time watching the action. These days, with the security controls in and around the airports, I never get to reach a place from where I can have a good view. Sitting in the lounge of gate A62 in Frankfurt airport I had a clear view of the runway and during the two hours that I spent there, watched enough landings and takeoffs to last my life time. As I calculated, from the runway that I was seeing, there was a takeoff or landing every half a minute. I had thought that the nose wheel of an aircraft touches the ground first while landing. I found that it is not so. It is the wing wheels that touch the ground first. A correction to my collection of useless information.


Frankfurt airport has shops, hotels, lounges and offices on the first level, arrival gates on the second level and departure gates on the third level. There are four sections of departure gates A,B,C,D, each having about 65 gates. All together, about three hundred fifty gates! Boarding to our flight to Detroit which was to take off at 13.35 was called at 12.55 and we stood in the long queue in front of the gate. Those who needed assistance were to board first, followed by people carrying babies and small children and then senior citizens. My grey hair reduced our waiting time in the queue and we overtook many real senior citizens who had dyed their hair. Grow old gracefully(and fast). It helps in an airport. Flight was uneventful and since there were no Kapoors or Khans on the monitor of our Air Bus A330-300, I could spend the time watching the monitor and recollecting lot of forgotten geography. We landed on time at Detroit, 16.25 on 27th may.

Flash back

The monitor attached to the ceiling of the Boeing 747-400 shows that we are flying over Baghdad. It also says that the altitude is 10972 meters and the ground speed is 552 mph. temperature outside, - 54F. Though I am a bit cramped in the ‘cattle’ class, it is not worse than the Bangalore- Goa KSRTC ‘Super deluxe’ bus as I had imagined, and covered in the blanket provided by Luftansa, I am quite cozy. Four hours into the flight, my leg has just started bothering me, but it can be ignored for another hour or two.

But my stomach has started growling. My wife packed some snacks for herself in spite of eating a hearty dinner last night saying that since she is going to be awake all night, she is likely to feel hungry and offered to pack some snacks for me too.
“You have had your dinner as usual is it not? You will feel hungry again only at breakfast time tomorrow morning. The airline will surely provide something by then. Whether you are sleeping in your house or flying in an aircraft, you have the same stomach. I don’t understand why it should act differently. Don’t fuss unnecessarily.”
In spite of my wise remarks she did pack some snacks and it was in her hand bag.

I did not carry a different stomach for the trip either, but my usually well behaved stomach has started acting differently. I am used to eating my words and I may have to do with that for the time being.

We had reached the airport at midnight and had boarded the flight at 3AM. Soon after take off the airline had provided considerable quantity of quite edible (I may even term it tasty) bread like thing stuffed with some unidentifiable substance, ketchup and juice. My wife refused it and I had consumed the whole lot ignoring her “Is it already breakfast time?” taunt. Now the stomach is growling again and my ears are awaiting the squeak of the trolley. If nothing comes around for another half an hour I will need to surrender my pride at her feet and ask her to open her bag.

We had to travel to Mumbai by an early morning flight from Goa and in my anxiety about oversleeping and missing the flight, I hadn’t slept a wink last night. I had thought that I may be able sleep on the flight. With out realizing it, I am getting excited about the trip and the excitement, along with the hunger is keeping me awake. Every one around me are sleeping peacefully and I can hear some one snoring too. Since I am unable to sleep, I am trying to pen down my thoughts with the overhead focus light on, and I have a feeling that I may be annoying my co-passengers. Any moment I am expecting a tap on my shoulder and a request to switch off the light.

I am unable to believe that I am on an international flight heading towards America, the ultimate ‘foreign’ country. ‘Foreign’ countries were places where the lucky people of the world lived in their fabulous houses and moved around in shining sleek cars on smooth roads. Only the luckier lot of our country men got to go there and what was left to us was to watch the planes flying high above us carrying these people. Our flight of fancy was just to get close enough to them in an airport and see one of them landing or taking off. I can not forget our excitement and happiness when my father accompanied his employer to Cochin on an Indian airlines flight and had taken us with him to the airport. We stood on the roof of the airport, waved to him before he got into the aircraft and imagined that we even recognized him sitting next to one of the windows. It is not easy to believe that I am inside one of those airplanes flying to a ‘foreign’ country. The plane, other passengers, the airhostess and everything else appear to be real, so it must be true.

I can see the airhostess approaching, handing out hot tissues for freshening up. I hope that the trolley is not far and the tray again contains something that I can eat. No need to rob my wife’s snacks. If my stomach settles down I hope to catch a wink and I will continue later.

I did start writing something in what I felt was the proper way and also planned to include some pictures in it. Now I realize that while it is easy to pile up the pictures, it is not easy to prepare the words. In other words, I intend preparing stuffed ‘paranthas’ and while the stuffing is ready the dough is not. I have a feeling that while I wait for the dough, the stuffing may get spoilt. So, I decided to give up preparing ‘paranthas’ and stick to the easier ‘chapati – sabzi’ and even there, serve the ‘sabzi’ first and ‘chapati’ later. I am hoping that my friends have a big heart and a hungry stomach and so, will accept whatever is served. here it is.



After I typed the last post at the ungodly hour of 1.30 AM, I made few more unsuccessful attempts at going to sleep. After further disturbing my wife by getting in and out of the bed every half an hour and also disturbing the whole household by switching the lights on and off and opening and closing the refrigerator door (which feels like the locker room door in our Ponda bank and with as big interiors) I went out for a walk at 5 am and others went back to sleep in peace.

It was already getting bright and I had carried the camera in hand. First I got the picture of my neighbourhood for the next one and a half months.

After moving up and down the sidewalk and ensuring that I will not be arrested for going out walking, I walked along the main road. It is a walker’s paradise. But where are the walkers?

In my walk around the locality of about an hour the only other living thing that I saw on the sideway was this bird and a hare which bounded away before I could focus my camera.

It is a very pleasant neighbourhood. And I walked slowly and peacefully along. Enjoying the sight of this small laake.

Some years back, I had attended yoga classes in my effort to bring about some order into my yoga practice. At the end of every session the yoga master made us do the shavaasana. He would make us lie flat on the floor with our limbs stretched and urged us to relax the body and concentrate within ourselves. He suggested that we imagine ourselves in a serene and peaceful place like the bank of a gently flowing river or the top of a hill with gentle breeze, close down the sensory organs, keep the mind empty and reach a fully relaxed state. My ears always heard the roar of the truck passing next to the window or someone having trouble kick starting the scooter and the mind never went beyond the worry of the possibility of the yoga master delaying the session and the milk in the booth getting sold out. Also, I could never imagine a serene and peaceful place which my mind would accept as very pleasant. Now other things remain as they are but I can always imagine myself lying on the banks of this lake.

BEGINNING MY BABLING (In the guise of a travelogue)

‘Fantastic’ and ‘very impressive’ were my feelings as I took my first look at this country. I am not sure if they are appropriate and express my feelings perfectly but have used them because they were the words that came out of my mouth when my niece asked me over the phone, what my feelings were, on taking the first look at this country. I am not able to sum up my feelings correctly in two words but think that they do the job quite well. She told me to start whatever I write about this place with those two words and I have done that. She did me a favour. I had no idea how to begin and really did not mean to sit in front of the monitor and start typing at 1.30 AM. Jet lag has forced me to. Every one at home are sleeping and I am typing after tossing and turning on the bed for two hours before falling off the unusually thick and soft mattress. I have a faint doubt that my wife, whose sleep I was disturbing, might have had a hand in it.

Now that I have stated writing, I am likely to continue and post them from time to time. If you like what you read, thank Sushma for giving me a beginning. If you don’t, blame the jet lag. (No originality here. Poor imitation of “padagoL chendaagidre endak sifaarsi. Chandaagildidranaka tapge bevaarsi – Sri GPR”).

I had read so much about the United States in magazines and books and had seen so much in the movies and on the television, I was sure that it would not impress me very much. I knew what to expect. And I had thought that jet lag was something that the rich, who comfortably travel in jets, had invented just to have something to complain about . I was wrong in both these assumptions as I am in many other assumptions. With the first look I was bowled over by the country and the jet lag has terribly upset my sleep and bowel movements. I have a feeling that I will remain awake for the next six weeks.

I had planned to begin my babbling in strict chronological order starting with the flight from Bombay to Frankfurt but find myself in a place from where I do not know how to proceed. Just as I was when I found myself in front of a glass wall through which I could not pass while confidently leading my wife to reach gate A67 in Frankfurt airport. I did manage to find a way through the glass wall - no chance to pat my own back. I just stood staring at the wall and it opened on its own as soon as a train arrived on the other side – and am confident that I will find a way to proceed if I patiently sit in front of the monitor and stare at it long enough.

RO -RO Ferry

Today’s headlines need no explanation to those living in Goa. The existing bridge across river Zuari at Cortalim ( On the Panaji- Margao highway) is being junked (it has been a junk since the last ten years with only light traffic, two wheelers and pedestrians being allowed to cross it) and the RO-RO (short for roll on-roll off) ferry service is planned at the place to cross the river. The ferry will carry trucks, buses, cars, people, cattle, dogs and what not and our politicians hail the project saying that the heavy vehicles which had to take a detour via Ponda need not do so any more. They say that It saves time, fuel, driver’s energy etc etc and reduces congestion on the smaller Borim bridge and Ponda - Panaji road etc etc, blah, blah blah. RO RO service is another feather in the cap of our politicians and citizens of Goa are lucky to have such leaders who can provide such facilities.

I have no intentions of contesting their claims, intelligence, foresight and other qualities but my memory does not allow me to keep quiet.

When I entered Goa twenty five years back, there was no bridge across river Zuari at Cortalim. There was a very efficient ferry service which used to carry buses, cars, trucks scooters and people free of charge. We used to alight from the bus at one bank of the river, get into the waiting ferry along with a truck, a bus, few cars and a dozen scooters, cross the river, get into another waiting bus at the other bank and proceed to Panaji. No trouble and no loss of time.

Our politicians decided to make it even easier for the citizens. The construction of a bridge was thought off so that people, buses and trucks (along with dogs and cattle) could just zoom across the river on the bridge without the hassle of getting into and out of the ferry. The bridge was constructed and it made things smooth for everyone for all of five years. All the politicians who could reach their backs , patted their backs themselves and claimed part in the successful completion of the project.

Within five years it developed cracks, there were doubts of its stability and safety and heavy traffic was stopped. Traffic had to take a detour via Ponda over the weaker Borim bridge and narrower ponda- Panaji road.

Now the ferry service is being planned.

We are exactly where we were twenty five years back. Our rulers made money on the bridge, on its repair and now will make more money on the contracts for the very efficient ferry service which is going to erase our hardships. Another bridge across the river is also being planned. They are reaching for their backs once again. Lucky we citizens! I dare not think where we would have been without our well meaning and very intelligent rulers!

No writing - Only reading.

My last post was on May 2nd. More than two weeks! In the normal course I should have cooked up something or the other to bug my friends. If I sit in front of the computer and urge my brain to bring up something, it usually obliges and proves that it exists. I have not been able to do that. Our computer is in a room that faces west and it gets very hot in the evenings and night. I have got an AC fitted to the other room and it is very tempting. I determine to write something and sit in front of the computer. But the determination does not last more than five minutes. Five minutes pass before I locate the brain. Forget about urging it to bring up something and wait for it. On top of it, after a long time I got some kannada books to read. So, between struggling to make up something for the blog in a hot room and relaxing in a cool place with a good book in hand, the second option always wins.

I had to go to Dharwad last month to attend a wedding and got some kannada books from Manohara grantha maala and Samaja pustakaalaya. I have no idea about the new authors and titles in kannada and it was not easy to select books. So, I just made a year’s subscription to Manohara grantha maala and got a set of their latest publishings. Three of them turned out to be to my liking. “Tukkappa mastara” a collection of short stories from Sri Chandrakanta kusnoor the language of which ( authentic north Karnataka) I liked though there wasn’t much of a story anywhere, “Shurpaliya acharyaru” a novel by Sri Katti sheshaachaarya- picturing the life of an orthodox madhwa brahmin priest, said to have been based on “Vicar of wakefield”. I liked the subject, narration and language. Incidentally “vicar of wakefield” was my text book in high school and I don’t think I got beyond the second page. I do not know how I passed in English. May be I just mugged up the question and answers dictated by out teacher. After reading “shurpaliya acharyaru” I want to read “vicar of wakefield”.

The third one is a sort of collection of anecdotes – “Saahitya lokada sutta mutta” by Sri Giraddi Govindaraja. It contained two anecdotes regarding my uncle Sri J R Lakshamana Rao, praising his courtesy and cultured behavior, and I was happy that I got that book. It feels very nice to read such things about a person on whom I have lot of respect and affection. I have one book left. “Nele” by Sri S L Bhyrappa. Though I like his earlier books like “Vamshavriksha”,“Tabbaliyu neenaademagane”, “Grihabhanga” etc very much, his recent books like “Saartha”, “Anchu”, “Tantu”, “Mandra” and others have been rather difficult to digest. I have no idea how “Nele” will be.
By the time I finish that, it will be time for me to leave for the airport. So probably - ‘Inshallah’- I will be typing my next post from the US. Bye till then.

Just something for this week

SEQC

I have attended five SEQC quiz programmes till date and have heard about 300 questions. My score is ZERO. The Sunday evening quiz club is completing two years this month and has arranged an additional quiz for primary school children today. Just to give an opportunity for the kids who tag along their parents every month. Adults can attend and answer if the questions are passed on. My son, who considers himself an expert (he has answered two questions till date) very gracefully suggested that I attend the kids contest and see if I can begin my score.

I ticked him off strongly.

Let my shame add on slowly. Not multiply.



“neeroLagirdum bemardan uragapatakam”

Neeru is water, oLage is within, irdum is being in, bemardan is sweated, uraga is snake, pataka is flag.
The above line from “Gadayuddha” written by the ancient kannada poet Ranna, means “the fellow with the picture of a snake on his flag, (duryodhana,) sweated (inspite of) being in water."
At the end of the ‘mahabharata’ war, Pandavas had an upper hand and all the associates of Duryodhana were dead. He tried to save his life by hiding himself in a lake. Apart from being an expert in the efficient use of mace, Duryodhana was also an expert in ‘jalastambhana’, the art of remaining in water for long periods.

Pandavas were searching all over for him and they came near the lake. One of them who knew about his expertise in ‘Jalastambhana,’ guessed that he may be hiding in the water. On hearing those words Duryodhana got so scared that he started sweating inside the water.

We had a part of ‘gadayudhdha’ as our kannada text in 12th standard and our teacher had explained the situation very effectively. Still, I was wondering how one can sweat inside the water.

I have been visiting the swimming pool for the last ten months and spend about half an hour in water every day. I have not drowned yet. I must have learnt some swimming. This month of May, with the increase in temperature and humidity, the water is hot even early in the morning and I have been able to appreciate “neeroLagirdum bemardan uragapatakam” better.


Only the dentist in benefited.

“Doctor, this tooth is shaking. I want it removed.” The father shook the front tooth in his daughter’s mouth.
I took a casual look and said that there is no need to remove it as it was going to fall on its own. Many parents get jittery when the tooth remains shaking for long time and want it out. I don’t like to unnecessarily prick the child and pull the tooth.
“No doctor, she has pain”
“Do you have Pain there?” I asked the child. The child shook her head. Negative.
“And she can’t eat.” – father
“Do you have difficulty in eating?” I asked the child. She shook her head. Negative.
“Do you want the tooth removed?” I asked the child. Vigorous shake of the head. Negative.
“It has been shaking for two months now” – Father
“Let it shake for another two months. Nothing will happen” - me.
“Will it affect the new tooth? If it remains?”
“No”
“Will it affect her speech?”
“No”
“But still it is better to remove it. Is it not?”
“No. there is no benefit in removing it”
“No benefit at all?”
“There is. Of course”
“What?”
“I get a very easy hundred rupees”
The father was out the next second along with the daughter. Benefit the dentist of all the people?
No way.