Home is Where the Heart is - the Sequel

I know the previous post was supposed to be my last for the year. But it wasn’t. So shoot me!

This one is basically to respond to all of you that reacted to my last post either by leaving a comment, sending me an email, calling or chatting with me online. In this post I will just respond to the comments and that should also take care of the emails that I received.

Naresh – I appreciate the encouragement but I’m not moving back to New York. At least not yet. You are however, still going to lose a friend in Bangalore as I’m not staying here either!

Aparna – I can’t believe you actually put a public comment out there. It was great spending the time with you in New York and briefly in Chicago – even though I’ve decided against moving back (for now), I will still see you in 2009 when I visit.

Madhu – You’re right I was restless towards the end but I think a short visit back would have taken care of that state of mind! Also the fact that I was running out of cash could have had something to do with my restlessness!

Mike – Dude … I honestly had no good reason to move back when I did. My plan was to spend a year or so in New York. I thought I was done and should try something new. I still had my house/car etc back in Bangalore so I hadn’t really gone with the intention of staying for too long. I especially hadn’t counted on falling in love with the city!

Rashi – Its funny how you’ve known me for such a short time and you still know me well enough to say ‘but knowing you, you never know’. So true. The last thing I want to be is predictable! I do appreciate the welcome with open arms and hope to see you guys in 2009.

Sheetal – I don’t think I have an issue with feeling a sense of belonging. I’ve never felt that I didn’t belong in any of the places that I’ve lived in but I’ve also never felt that I belonged in New York as much as I did! As my friend Elsa put it - “it’s love”. I think it is. But sometimes one has to work to obtain one’s love and that’s what I need to do right now!

Susan – That was such a sweet comment. I was truly touched. Who knew that two strangers sitting across from each other at the airport would become good friends and have so much in common.

Uma – I’m at a point where I don’t think I could live in Bangalore for 6 months in a year. I think that I’m pretty much done with this city!

So are you wondering what I’ve decided to do in place of moving to New York? I hope that I’ve perked up your curiosity. I will reveal my plans to you in the New Year. Meanwhile have a safe and enjoyable time on the 31st night/1st morning and I hope that 2009 brings us all peace and a better economy.

Home is Where the Heart is!

Until a couple of years ago I felt that I was going to live in Bangalore for the rest of my life. At the time I hadn’t counted on evolving and having different expectations as time went on. More importantly, I hadn't discovered 'living in New York'!

Two months ago after I returned from my 16 month stint in New York some people asked me whether I thought Bangalore had changed. My response to that was that I didn’t know if Bangalore had changed or not but I sure had!

I feel that Bangalore doesn’t offer me the kind of life that I would like to live. In addition, after living in a little apartment in New York, the size of my penthouse is beginning to embarrass me. I question myself as to why I need to have so much space. If I could have my way, I would sell my apartment and move into a more modest sized one. Unfortunately with the economy going through a time of turmoil, the practical side of me tells me that this is not the time to sell.

It’s been two months since I returned and I’m still unsettled. In one of my previous posts I had mentioned that I felt like a New Yorker the day I moved in. I am however, not feeling like a Bangalorean in spite of having lived here for several years and having felt it previously.

Some of my friends in the US had warned me that I was going back too soon. And although in my heart of hearts I too was afraid of the same, I thought that once I came back I would forget it all and be happy here.

Why is it that Bangalore doesn’t feel like home any longer? What is it that I miss about New York that I would like it to be home at this stage of my life? Here’s a list of things that come to my mind.

- More than anything I miss the energy of that city. I have never felt more alive than when I was in New York.

- I miss the variety of people one gets to see and meet. Walking on the streets, being in the subway in a city made up of Caucasians, African-Americans, Hispanics, South East Asians, South Asians, etc.

- I miss being in the culture capital of the world – Broadway, art exhibits, book launches, movie premiers, writing workshops ….

- Central Park. It was such an integral part of my year – my escape from the hustle and bustle, when I wanted to enjoy the weather and read my book, walking through Strawberry fields, Bethesda fountain, the vibrant change in colors from the lush greens, the purples, yellows, oranges to the bare browns or the snow covered stark white.

- I miss walking to the bank, the grocery store, the post office, the barber shop, the cleaners, the restaurants …. I just miss walking in New York!

- I miss the variety of restaurants, the New York style pizza, the over-hyped Magnolia cup cakes, the best pancakes that I’ve ever had at the W and the Four Seasons, the Martinis, Chinatown, Little Italy, the absence of chain restaurants, the overwhelming presence of Sushi places, Sunday brunches etc.

- I miss the eye candy!

- I miss my Upper West Side neighborhood, the C train, the Red line, SOHO, Greenwich Village, Riverside Park. I even miss Times Square!!!!

I mentioned to a friend in New York over chat yesterday that I was considering moving back. Her response was that I was crazy and I asked what was wrong with that. To which she said ‘Absolutely nothing! It’s completely okay to be crazy!’

I don’t know if I’m actually going to move. Two weeks from today I may wake up and feel wonderful about being here. I do know that I Heart New York and isn’t that where home is supposed to be?

War and Peace

On the night of November 26th I was in Amritsar with my sister and brother-in-law. Although we had spent considerable time at the Golden Temple during the day, I decided to go back later that night. There weren’t too many people at that hour and the experience was completely different from the previous one, when a much larger crowd of devotees and tourists were at this remarkable site. I felt at peace mesmerized by the sight of the temple amidst the calmness of the lake that it sits on. The temple is surrounded by marvels of architecture with entrances on all sides signifying the importance of acceptance and openness. It’s said that one cannot visit the Golden Temple until one receives a bulava or an invitation from the Almighty and I felt truly blessed to have been on His invitee list.

In another part of the country, at exactly the time that I was feeling so good about being alive, terror had begun striking. The streets of South Mumbai were being riddled with bullets, a very uncommon occurrence (at least I don’t ever remember it happening previously but what do I know?). Although I was alarmed when I watched the news later that night in my hotel room, I eventually went to bed dismissing the entire incident as being no more than a gang war.

The morning news was of a completely different nature by which time the terrorists had taken over prestigious hotels in the heart of the city and a building that housed Israeli nationals, having killed many and holding others hostage. The entire experience of watching it on television was surreal. Like a bad action movie, poorly edited and much too long. Except the people in the midst of it were real and not actors. Was this the ultimate reality show in extremely bad taste?

In a world population of approximately 6.7 billion we have a miniscule percentage of terrorists that are creating havoc. Why is it that 99.99999% of ‘us’ are not able to get rid of .00001% of ‘them’? Why are the political agendas stronger than safety agendas? Why is it that we have to spend billions to incorporate security measures when we could spend a lot less to terrorize and finish them? What is it going to take? Isn't this really enough?

Are we going to light a candle, wear white for a day, participate in a protest rally and go back to our seemingly unmemorable lives, struggling to survive, saving to make the next big purchase, wanting a meal in the most talked about restaurant-of-the-week and wondering (fleetingly) if the subway/mall/theatre that we’re in could blow up at any time?

At this point I have no great ideas as to what we can do as individuals. What I do know is that we must not forget that terrorism is a part of our lives until terrorism is eliminated. We must voice our anger, our need for safety, demand the implementation of security measures and very importantly look out for each other as good human beings. When I read about the employees of the Taj and Oberoi who gave up their lives to protect their customers, it completely amazed me. In such a situation one would think that they would have tried to protect themselves first but instead these were unarmed servers, chefs, administrative staff who put the lives of their customers first. It’s only thanks to such heroes that we still have faith in humanity.

The terrorist attacks of November 26th are being called India’s 9/11. Do we need a label for the incident? I’m fine with a label as long as we take it as seriously as 9/11 was taken by the US. As Indians, most of us are cynical about what we should expect from our political system. However, we have to be resilient and ensure that this isn’t ‘just another attack’. Enough IS enough. Make your voices heard. Fight the evil.

Peace must take over.

O B A M A

Several months ago I watched a play on Broadway called Thurgood. The play was based upon the life of Thurgood Marshall, the first African-American to serve on the Supreme Court of the United States of America. It was a piece of history that was written in 1967.

Another piece of history was written yesterday when Senator Barack Obama was elected to be the next President of the United States of America. This was an election that was not only closely watched across the globe but was also a personal victory (or loss) for every American, across all sections of society, age groups, genders and race. Never in my memory has an election been as personal and as emotional as the one that made history yesterday.

Thanks to the time difference, I was up at the crack of dawn so I wouldn’t miss a single minute of the results. Not only was I switching channels on my television, I had live MSNBC on my laptop as a constant. When it was announced that Obama had got the required number of electoral votes to be the next President elect, I had a lump in my throat that wouldn’t leave. During his speech I had tears streaming down my eyes. I would have given anything at that point to be at Grant Park in Chicago and kept thinking about how stupid I was to not have stayed in the US until after the elections. I was so close to witnessing history live but I guess in my heart of hearts I had always been afraid of an Obama loss.

I had always maintained that Obama would not win. As much as I wanted him to and as much as I believed in him, I didn’t think that America was ready for a ‘colored’ President. Although during the last weeks I was starting to get more and more hopeful, I was still not convinced by the polls and found out only a couple of days ago that my fears had a name – it was called ‘The Bradley effect’ (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bradley_effect).

I have never been happier to be wrong. America was ready for change and the color of Obama’s skin was unimportant. Although he was the right choice regardless of anything else, in my mind there were three factors that helped him tremendously – George Bush, the economy and Sarah Palin.

A few days ago I was jokingly telling a friend that if McCain wins, I will probably give up my American citizenship. However, I hadn’t really thought that Obama’s victory would make me want to move back to the States!

For the past several months I’ve had an Obama magnet placed strategically at the edge of a family picture on my refrigerator to make it look like he belongs to my family! It’s been a topic of conversation, a source of amusement and has also visibly upset a close Republican friend who was visiting from Chicago. On a side note, I’m truly amazed that we’re still friends!!

It’s going to be tough. The economy is a mess. Thousands of people are losing their jobs every month. Foreclosures are a common occurrence. Liquidity is an issue. The entire world is affected by recessionary trends in the US. Expectations from the new President are very high and he’s going to be closely watched.

Barack Obama is no Messiah. He is a President (in a couple of months) with a vision and a plan. He knows that the road ahead is tough and the damage cannot be undone easily. I don’t care what anyone else says, I think Obama is The One, in my family picture and in million’s of hearts. Do I think that he can turn things around?

Yes he can!

How Random is That?

The first thing I did this morning was that I kicked myself. I was SO mad it wasn’t even funny. And for good reason. I had missed John Lennon’s birthday on October 9th. I had made a mental note for myself to go to Strawberry Fields at Central Park and spend a few hours celebrating with all the other Beatles fans. On the night of October 8th when I was returning from dinner with some friends, walking towards midtown from the upper west side, a man who was quite obviously high on alcohol, walking close by, just out of the blue said ‘don’t forget Lennon’s birthday celebration tomorrow at Strawberry Fields’ and I looked at him and said ‘yes I’m aware and I will be there’. How random was that? And if that wasn’t a reminder from God, then what the heck was it???

So now you have a sense as to why I was so mad at myself. Anyway, since I couldn’t go back in time, I figured that I would go to the park today and have a belated celebration of my own. Every weekend there’s a band that plays by Lennon’s memorial and a few times in the past I have stood beside them and sang myself hoarse. The last time was with my friends who were visiting from Chicago a couple of weeks ago and it was such a memorable time. In fact we all agreed that it was the most fun thing we had done in the 4 days that they were here. And believe me, there was severe competition since we had done so many fun things!

So at 5:00 pm today I made my way to the park, my vocal chords intact. It was so amazing. I guess a lot of people couldn’t show up on the 9th and were there today including some celebrities like Alec Baldwin and Emily Bergil. I made myself comfortable on the floor, next to one of the guitarists and sang every single song with them for about 3 hours. I didn’t just hum or sing quietly – it was as if I was the lead vocalist! I was so into the singing that I didn’t realize for quite a while that the woman sitting on the bench next to the band, just above where I was, wasn’t just any woman. It was Yoko Ono! How random is that? My favorite moment was when before leaving, Yoko tapped me on my shoulder and said ‘you sing very well’. Oh my God!!! I could have died and gone to Lennon Heaven right then!

Anyway, at the end of the night, I said my goodbyes to the band and thanked them for the many evenings I had enjoyed listening to (and singing with) them. Turns out that one of the band members is half Indian and his dad is from Bangalore. How random is that?

Also as a punishment for forgetting Lennon’s birthday, I’ve decided that I am going to have to come back for it next year. Heh.

Speaking of ‘random’, the Saturday before I was moving out of my apartment my doorbell rang at 11:30 pm. No one has EVER rung my doorbell at that hour without my knowing exactly who it would be. I was in my pajamas and I opened to door to see a pretty woman holding an alcoholic beverage.

Me: “Hello”
She: “Hello”
She: “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”
Me: “No, not really. I just got home a short while ago”
She: “Well, I’m at the party next door and I was very curious to meet you”
Me: (Thinking) “Why would she be curious to meet me?”
She: "I know you're wondering why"
Me: "As a matter of fact I was". Damn she was good!
She: “Actually, we share the same last name and first initial”
How random is that?

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I ended up partying with them until 2 am, meeting my neighbor for the first time, two days before I was leaving the apartment.
How random is that?

I have many more random stories to share but it will have to be another time, another posting.

Cakeaholics Anonymous

Last week I had an experience that completely blew me away. Never in my life had I thought that I would see the day that the sight of cakes and pastries would nauseate me. And this wasn’t a single-day phenomena – it went on for the entire week. It was more than troubling – I was in near-panic mode.

Everyone that knows me reasonably well is aware of my fondness for things that contain sugar and more so if those ‘things’ include chocolate. But no … the smell of chocolate was enough to make me gag. I wanted to get as far away from the three layered Devils Food cake with chocolate ganache icing, chocolate pastries with raspberry cream filling, chocolate cupcakes iced with rich buttercream frosting (alright you can stop drooling now) as a turkey would from Thanksgiving.

You may, dear reader, ask as to what was the cause of this strange phenomenon. Or you may not ask. I am however, going to tell you anyway. I was in a Techniques of Baking class all day, all week and I have NEVER been exposed to SO MUCH butter, sugar, chocolate, icing, cakes etc. in my entire life. The smell of baked goods that would on a regular day make my knees weak had quite the opposite reaction (uh .. not meaning that they made my knees strong).

In spite of my loss of appetite for desserts, it was all in all a fantastic (but intense) class. I have to confess that I'm not used to menial labor in the kitchen. I am on the other hand, used to having a cook who follows instructions very well. In other words I’m lazy but I supervise well. This class was tough for me because I had to do everything myself. Everything that one needs to do to bake a cake well. And we were baking on an average 5-6 cakes per day. Baking the cakes was the easy part. It was the layering, preparing the different fillings and icings and finally decorating them that was painful. Painful but rewarding. The ‘painful’ part will of course go away once I’m back in Bangalore and my cook is trained. And all I will be left with is the ‘reward’.

Our class was made up of 14 women and 2 men and we had to work in groups of two. My partner was a woman from the Philippines who makes an annual trip to New York and enrolls herself in baking classes. She was a nice lady, very ‘propah’, at 9 am every morning she looked like she had just walked into class from a beauty salon – not a hair out of place, perfect make-up, designer clothes - quite the Philippino desperate housewife! I'd like to add here that she was a little bossy too in a quiet way but by day two she realized that she had met her match.

We had our very own younger ‘desi’ version of Mrs. Philippines who flew in non-stop from New Delhi the same morning, showered and showed up for class. Looking way fresher than me for sure! Now you have to keep in mind that I’m not used to waking up before 10 am. And here I was, had to be at the train station at an unearthly 8:30 am. I was so stressed that I lay awake all night, tossing and turning, looking at the time and tossing some more. So compared to Miss New Delhi, I was a holy mess!

My personal favorite was M – the class clown, always more interested in what other’s were doing, taking frequent breaks, great sense of humor, prettiest girl in class (I’m NOT sending her this blog – all she needs is a bigger head!), knew everyone by the end of day one, charmed the chef – wait a second – except for the ‘prettiest girl’ part, did I just describe myself? We were just like two peas in a pod and got along famously too!

And just for the record, I made a Pound Cake, Blueberry Crumb Cake, Devils Food Cake, Chocolate Chiffon Cake, Angel Food Cake, Coconut Raspberry Cake, several kinds of Pastries, a Swill Roll, Raspberry Tarts, four different varieties of Cupcakes, with/without filling, with/without icing etc. etc.

Each recipe is being sold for $10 (which is a bargain if you ask me, considering how much I paid for the class) – I’ve been out of a job for a while now so I’m sure you can understand my need to make some extra cash.

Please email me for details on where to send your cash/cheque/check/money order.

Summer of 2008

It’s been a while. Summer is on its way out. The lease on my apartment runs out this month. With each passing day, I get closer to checking off ‘Living in New York’ from my ‘List of things to do before I die’.

It’s been quite an incredible summer. I’ve had family and friends visiting me from all over – Hong Kong, Bangalore, Chennai, New Jersey, Chicago, Georgia, Cincinnati, Boston, Connecticut, Philadelphia – gosh, I think I’ve met more family in the past two months than I have in the past 2 years!

I want to leave New York while I’m still on a high about this city. As memorable as my time has been, I know that I cannot possibly live here. The pressure of having to be in shape, dressing well, trying out new restaurants, the constant feeling of ‘wanting to be out and either making the most of a beautiful day’ or ‘going to a show’ or just doing ‘something’ is exhausting. I’m exhausted. I want to go back to Bangalore and do absolutely nothing for a few days.

You’d be exhausted too if your summer included eating out almost everyday (and gaining weight as a result), 2 Broadway shows, a symphony, a ballet performance, exploring different parts of Central Park including the much hyped carriage ride, spending a day at the humungous Metropolitan Museum, going back to the Museum of Modern Art (just because …), doing a 3 day bus tour of the city, a speedboat ride into the East River, still trying to go to the gym 3 times a week, entertaining relatives, getting portraits made, attending a wedding and several parties, visiting art galleries, going to the US Open, miles of walking everyday, etc.

However, nothing in the world is more exhausting than shopping. My sisters who were visiting from India had insisted that they were not interested in shopping while I went ‘yeah yeah’ in my mind. I was amazed at the number of purses, footwear, clothes and more purses, footwear and clothes that they ended up with. Why am I even surprised? I really am not. I’m just wondering how the heck I’m going to get all the stuff that I’ve bought in the past year home. And I’m still looking to buy more. I hate the materialistic side of me. But I figure, when am I going to be in a city again where the lowest end store is a Macy’s?

People ask me about my New York experience and I can without hesitation say that it’s been one of the best years of my life. So much has happened that it feels like several years were packed into just one. There were times when I would try to not make plans but plans would get made by a larger force! Unexpected calls from people I never imagined I would see here. When I left Bangalore I used to joke about not giving my number and address to anyone so I wouldn’t have houseguests. And for those of you who think that I constantly had guests in Bangalore, my 400 sq foot apartment out here has seen WAY more action. I’m dead sure that the 111-year-old building that I live in has never seen so many people come and go. There were days when there was no walking space in my apartment as every square foot of free space had an airbed with someone sleeping on it.

However, all good things must come to an end. I have 47 more days in the city and I plan to make the most of each of them. Day 46 is going to have me going back to the US Open to see the Men’s finals. As much as I was hoping for a Federer-Nadal match, I really am not complaining about having to watch Federer-Murray. How many of us have the opportunity? I feel so lucky and so blessed to have the life that I do. I love being ME so thank you God!

All lines are busy – please call later

I received a call this morning from an acquaintance who spent the first what-seemed-like- innumerable-minutes explaining to me how busy she is. She has a full time job and has to come home and cook and clean. And commuting to work is such a headache. The ramble went on and on with me not listening to a word past a point. In fact I was reading the paper when she called (yes I have time to read the newspaper – I am so un-busy!!) and I went back to it uninterested in her busy lifestyle and unable to focus on it.

Oh in case you’re reading and thinking, 'is he talking about me?' you can heave a sigh of relief because I’m not. My opening character of this piece clearly doesn’t have the time to read my postings, so I don’t send them to her. Heaven forbid I give her more to do. However, if the thought did come to your mind, the next time you’re trying to come up with an excuse, think of something a little more original.

It annoys me to no end when someone who hasn’t been in touch for a while, hasn’t returned your call(s) and/or email(s) decides to get in touch with the classic ‘I’ve been so busy’ excuse. Unless the excuse is followed up with some compelling reason that has caused him/her to be busier than the rest of the working population, I really don’t buy it. I would rather be told ‘sorry but calling you back wasn’t a priority’ or ‘I did see the caller id but I wasn’t in the mood to speak to you and then it slipped my mind’ or even ‘you are at the bottom of my list of people to call – that’s why it took so long’. I may get offended but I’m sure I’ll get a laugh out of it.

We’re all busy. I have a full life and I’m not talking about going to work, cooking and cleaning. Those are just things that I’m forced to do. It’s all the things that I want to do that me really busy. And considering that I just resigned from my job, starting next week I’m going to be even busier!

I’m so irritated with the ‘busy’ word that I’ve now started substituting it with ‘tied-up’. Which, depending upon how the conversation is going, can lead to some very interesting visions.
“Sorry I haven’t been able to speak to you in the past month but I’ve been tied up. In fact I just got free!”

New Yorkers pretend to be the busiest people in the world. It seems like everyone is running to get somewhere and they’re always running late. Most of the people I’ve met here are ‘extremely busy’ but upon probing, their lives seem no more hectic than mine (a lot less actually most of the time). As much as I’ve grown to love this city, I’m also convinced that the majority of the people here are completely self-obsessed and think it’s almost embarrassing to be in regular touch as their secret of not being busy will be revealed. When I first moved here and I’d meet someone new, I’d be like ‘lets meet up sometime’ and we’d exchange numbers or email addresses. Silly me, I’d even try calling or texting, not knowing that everyone’s too busy to call or text back. I was beginning to get a complex, but then I found out that this is how you’re supposed to act over here. Sadly I think New Yorkers are some of the loneliest people in the world.
On a happy note, I also came across people who have a mind of their own and don’t care about conforming. I can proudly call them my friends.

I’d love to end this piece by saying something preachy like ‘our family and friends are the most important things in our lives and we should never be too busy to be in touch with them’ or ‘we can always get another job but its hard to replace a good friend’ or ‘running after money could result in people running away from you’.

But I’m not gonna ….

Of Mice and Movies

Recently I came across a mouse in my apartment. Which I found out, is not an uncommon occurrence in New York apartments. I had suspected that these creatures did make an appearance but I had never actually seen one for myself. So when I got out of bed a few night’s ago to get a drink of water and turned on the kitchen light I saw IT. We completely took each other by surprise and scared the s*** out of each other. He began running for cover and I muffled up a scream and jumped around a little, not knowing what else to do. A few seconds later, I saw it disappear into a crevice and I made my way back into the bedroom without the drink of water. My heart was pounding and I got under the covers and quietly went back to sleep.

The next morning I called the building superintendent who sent the exterminator who set up traps and did whatever else he was supposed to do. Gave me all kinds of tips on how I could prevent mice from returning in the future. But I haven’t seen once since and I’m really not one for following instructions.

Anyway, the only reason I tell this story is so I could have a clever-ish title for this posting!

So now I’m going to move on to movies.

Is it just me or did Hollywood hit rock bottom with the quality of movies last year? I mean if you look at the Oscar nominations for the past year, you have ‘Michael Clayton’ a mediocre ‘thriller’ at best which you forget as soon as you leave the theatre. ‘No Country for Old Men’ a much hyped movie about a maniac who goes about killing everyone. ‘There will be Blood’ – highly pretentious with an eye on the Oscars (just like ‘Babel’ was a couple of years ago). ‘Juno’, a heartwarming movie about a pregnant sarcastic, cynical and funny teenager, which deserved to make the money that it did, but an Oscar nomination? And finally ‘Atonement’ which I guess had all the ingredients to please the critics so I’m going to let this one go.

I was having a discussion about the recent mediocrity in Hollywood with a friend of mine and we both were of the opinion that they should have just cancelled the Oscars. “Sorry, but this year there will be no Academy Awards because we’re scraping the bottom of the barrel and still not coming up with great films. See ya next year … hopefully!”

I watched the latest Indiana Jones a couple of weeks ago. This was one movie I was really looking forward to and was extremely disappointed that it had received such poor reviews. So even though my interest had dwindled considerably, I eventually decided to go watch it. Maybe it was my lack of expectations, but I thoroughly enjoyed the film. I thought it had all the ingredients (masala) I was looking for. It had the pace, the adventure, the humor and the whole look! Loved it! Of course no Oscar nominations for this one though!

Another movie that I really enjoyed in the recent past is called ‘The Visitor’. A small film with no big names performing in it. Highly recommended. Don’t miss it.

Sadly, these are the only two movies that I’ve actually been glad to have watched this year. Slim pickings my friends. Is Hollywood running out of ideas? I sincerely hope not because we so look forward to original films from LA. And if Hollywood is running out of ideas, where is Bollywood going lift its ideas from (sorry couldn’t resist that)?

And I cannot end this ‘movie write-up’ without talking about one of my most favorite films that I watched once again this week – ‘Fight Club’. Every time I watch it, I seem to get enthralled by it even more! Of course the credit for the movie has to go to the book written by Chuck Palahniuk. I remember our book club in Bangalore read the book and watched the movie and all the women cringed. The men, on the other hand, thought it was the greatest! I never thought I would use the word ‘brilliant’ to describe any performance by Brad Pitt. He should be kissing the director's feet that he got to do this movie, by far his best. And Edward Norton, as always is outstanding. This movie probably has the most amazing and memorable dialogues that I’ve come across. My favorite line in the movie - the things you own end up owning you - Tyler rocks! And the entire premise is SO original, and if you think about it, SO pertinent. This is one movie that you either GET and love or DON'T GET and hate. There is no middle ground. Okay, I’m going to stop gushing now…..I just want to say that I even bought the script for this movie (the things you can buy on the streets of New York City!)

I could go on and on about movies but I’m going to stop before I lose each and every one of you.
I’m stopping.
I’ve stopped.
THE END (credits rolling).

NYC Subway Spotting!

It was a couple of weeks before Christmas. I was in the subway headed towards downtown, meeting some friends at a bar. Santa got into the train and made his way to the empty seat right next to me. I looked at him and smiled.
“You’re the skinniest Santa I’ve ever seen”, I said.
“It’s almost 2008 dude,” he replied, “Santa has to be in shape”.
I couldn’t agree more.
“So, what would you like for Christmas?” asked Santa.
“World peace” I replied, completely dead pan and we both laughed out loud.
We arrived at the 14th Street station and Santa got up.
“Santa needs a lot more beers. Ho! Ho! Ho!” he announced and got off the subway.
It was around 10 pm and thankfully there were no kids around.

This was last week. A South East Asian couple was sitting directly in front of me. He had his hair down to his shoulders and she had it as short as a boy’s. He wore earrings in both ears, a bracelet, necklace and several rings. She wore no jewelry. Thankfully he wasn’t wearing make-up and neither was she. Every 30 seconds they kissed each other. They shared the same iPod. They were dressed almost exactly alike – black Tshirts with cut off sleeves and tight, tight jeans. When I got off the train it was time for the 30 second kiss.

African-American male. Probably in his 30s. Sleeveless Tshirt and shorts. Arms and legs completely covered with tattoos. Wearing at least 10 different kinds of beads around his neck and a few around his wrist. Not a care in the world.

Overweight couple. Daughter wearing pink. Definitely tourists!

Indian IT nerd – glasses, mustache, Lee jeans and clunky gym shoes. Probably new in the city. Hopefully 6 months here will make him more stylish. More likely to move to New Jersey.

Big homeless man sleeping. Long hair, long beard. Unkept, unclean, uncared. Noone around him because of the unpleasant odor.

The Jackson 5 impersonators. Father and four sons (supposedly) – big Afro hair, unbuttoned polyester shirts, songs from the 70s. Made quite an impression on the commuters and quite a packet I must say!

A group of office colleagues returning from a sporting event. Drunk, loud and obnoxious. They could very well have been my friends and I in any part of the world!

The three white bald guys - same height, same size, looked exactly alike – triplets or generic white men?

The Hispanic mother and daughter that kept laughing about something the entire time. They would say something in Spanish and burst out laughing. There were bouts of giggling followed by unashamed loud laughs. I had no clue what was so funny but it definitely made me smile.

Never a dull moment in the New York City subways. Just keep your eyes and ears open!

‘Play’ing with the Stars!

I was trying to think if I had ever seen a Hollywood actor in person and I finally remembered having seen John Malkovich in a play in Chicago a few years ago. The solo American movie star who I had seen in flesh and blood.

That was then ... my pre-New York days!

Things have changed in the past couple of weeks when I’ve had a windfall of movie star sightings! Most of them as a result of shelling out the greens on Broadway and worth every penny that was spent.

Laura Linney, of Love Actually, Primal Fear, The Truman Show, Mystic River etc etc and one of my most favorite actresses in the raunchy production of Dangerous Liaisons.
Lawrence Fishburne of The Matrix series of films, Mystic River, Bad Company, Mission Impossible III and many more in the one man act in and as Thurgood (Marshall), the first black Supreme Court Justice of the United States.
Frances McDormand, Best Actress, Oscar winner for Fargo AS the country girl IN The Country Girl directed by the hugely talented Mike Nichols!
Peter Gallagher of American Beauty, While you were sleeping, Sex Lies and Videotape as the director who brings a has-been, deeply troubled actor back into the limelight in The Country Girl.
and saving the best for the last
Morgan Freeman who needs no introduction, as the alcoholic actor who’s getting a chance to make a major comeback in The Country Girl!

Do I sound like I’m bragging? That’s because I am. And why shouldn’t I? All you film buffs are probably green with envy. And you’re going to get even more jealous when I tell you that I got Lawrence Fishburne’s autograph and was backstage just inches away from Morgan Freeman.

I was completely overwhelmed at the end of each of these plays. I'm not sure if it was because the plays were outstanding or the fact that I was seeing these actors, who I had watched in a number of movies, performing live in front of me. What is it about seeing a celebrity in person that gets us so wired? I'm guessing its the fact that a larger than life character we’re so used to seeing behind a screen turns out to be a real person, just like one of us. This person really does exist and is not unreachable. Plus of course the fact that we can brag about it!

That’s not all. Chris Rock was in my neighborhood. One solitary block from where I live. I didn’t even have to pay to see him. I was walking back home after my workout and saw a small but starry eyed crowd standing outside this restaurant that spans almost the entire block. Upon inquiry I found out that the Rock man was about to come out of the limo that had just made its way outside the eatery and within seconds Mr. Rock was waving to the crowds amidst much cheering and whistling. One more celebrity sighting under my belt!

I went to the New York Knicks last home game of the season, playing the Boston Celtics. No big stars playing that game since competitively it didn’t matter who won or lost. It was still exciting to be there. Jack Nicholson was in the same stadium! The half time and time-out entertainment was definitely more enjoyable than the game but that too wasn’t the best part. The best part was all the free food and drink you could have! Free coke, free hot dogs, free popcorn, free ice-cream, free candy, free pizza. Nothing like a good deal in “the land of the free”! Sure gave us a lot of
k(n)icks. I know I know, I’m starting to kill you with my lame jokes.

I’ve now got used to hobnobbing with the stars. I don’t know if I can handle being among mere mortals any longer. Or at least not for an extended period. I feel like I have to change my social circle. Walk the red carpet. Shun the paparazzi. Give interviews with inside information about my celebrity friends. Designer suits. Tall fenced in homes. Weekends at the French Riviera. Yeah yeah yeah. Shut up already .....

My New York Stories - Part I of many

Oftentimes I wonder what it’s all about. What is it that we’re supposed to be doing? Are we here for a reason? Is there someone that has real answers to these questions?

I knew very early in life that I couldn’t lead the ‘expected' life. Get an education, make a career, get married, have children, feed them, educate them, etc. etc. Obviously I have nothing against it, but I couldn’t see myself doing it. As a result I’m not highly educated, have never been ambitious, no wife, no kids! People always ask me “don’t you want to settle down”? And I think to myself “do I really seem unsettled?”

Of course my definition of being settled is quite different from the standard one.

In fact anytime I begin to feel 'settled' I want to do something unsettling! I’ve realized that I don’t like routine. I like surprises as long as they’re not the kind with people jumping out from behind the couch on my birthday. I want something unexpected (in a good way) to happen. Something that separates today from yesterday. And the day before. I also know that this is not going to happen unless I MAKE it happen.

As many of you know, I threw away a perfectly good job that paid me more than a fair amount, was close to home and did not require me to work long or weird hours – something most people would give their left arm for! I wasn’t sure what I was going to be doing next but checking out New York was in my radar. I was a little nervous about the move. It isn’t easy giving up a life of leisure and moving to a city that was completely unfamiliar and maybe a little intimidating. And THAT was precisely what made it exciting. Then there were the questions. Was I going to find a job that would allow me to live in the city? Was I going to be able to live in a tiny apartment after being in a more-than-modest-sized-one for a number of years? How was all the housework going to get done? Dinner would not be waiting for me at the table. My clothes would not magically get washed and more importantly, ironed. I couldn’t just be in the mood to eat something and it would get cooked. And in all probability I would have to actually work in my new job – something I had alienated myself from in the recent past!

Well, it’s all worked out so far. I consider myself extremely fortunate to be living the life I was so curious about. It’s said that ‘everyone should live in New York at some point of their lives’ and I couldn’t agree more. It truly is a unique city. The energy that this city exuberates cannot be replicated anyplace else. New York is almost its own country, a true cosmopolitan city that has brought together all the cultures of the world. It’s almost hard to believe that New York is a part of the US – it’s as different from the rest of the country as chalk and cheese.

Sometimes I wonder what I’m doing here. And other times I wonder if I’ve always been familiar with this life. I met someone at a dinner party recently who grew up in Connecticut and said that after living in New York for 6 years was finally beginning to feel like a ‘New Yorker’. I, on the other hand, felt like a New Yorker the day I moved in. There was something about this city that grabbed me instantly. It made me feel like this was also home. It was almost unreal, how comfortable I felt here. There wasn’t a 'settling in' (there we go again!) period, no 'getting used' to my new surroundings. It almost seemed like I had lived here in a previous life.

I eat out a lot. It definitely beats cooking although I do go through it a couple of times a week. I get my laundry done. I had a cleaning lady come clean once but it seemed like an awful amount of money for a miniscule apartment. So I clean. I hate mundane tasks. I miss all the help I had in Bangalore. But I don’t dwell on it because I have no idea how long I’m going to live here. I certainly don’t want to waste time feeling bad when I have so much to feel good about.

The other day someone I ran into (in small town America) said she was in New York a couple of weeks ago. She made a face and said "I hated it. It’s so dirty and crowded". This, coming from someone who has lived in Chennai all her life, not the cleanest and most sparsely populated city in the world. I almost wanted to slap her when she said that. How dare she say something derogatory about my city? Crowded yes – but dirty? Where was THAT coming from? I surprised myself because instead of just ignoring a comment (made by someone who completely overlooked everything that the city has to offer and only saw the superficial aspect), about a city that has more character than Meryl Streep in all her various movies, her remark made my blood boil.

More importantly it made me realize how close this city is to my heart. And how I will always be thankful that I’ve chosen to spend a portion of my life here. I have no idea what life is all about and what it is that I’m supposed to be doing here. I do however, know that at this moment, where I am feels SO right. Amen.

Spilling Culture

Lately I’ve been spilling coffee on myself more often than not. Every morning I walk over to Starbucks to get my ‘bold’ Columbian cup of caffeine that will jolt me out of my sleepy existence. Unfortunately it also ends up leaving stains on my shirt. Sometimes the lid isn’t shut tight. Sometimes I’m not paying attention and the entire slit on the lid doesn’t make it into my mouth (of course it doesn’t help that I have a small sized big mouth). And then sometimes I just bump into someone and the spill happens. Of course, like clockwork every Friday when I go to the cleaners, Mr. Chung (which by the way isn’t his real name) will look at my shirts and go “more coffee stains!!” and I’ll laugh out loud in an attempt to look less foolish and even lesser of a slob. I’m sure he thinks I’m an idiot.

I’ve been considering giving up my morning cuppa and sleeping through the day. I wonder if my client will notice. It'll shrink my dry cleaning bill for sure.

Speaking of liquids that are consumed, I’ve cut down on my alcohol intake. Not that I need to worry about being in AA or anything but my Friday and Saturday nights were becoming wilder than my weekends in college. Sometimes I would have no recollection of what time and how I made it home from the last bar that my friends and I were at. No idea if I took the subway or a cab. No clue if I paid the cab driver an obscene amount of money. How I got into my apartment building, changed into my pajamas etc. etc. The only thing I remembered was everything spinning around me.

So two weekends ago I decided to not hit the bars and enhance my cultural side instead. It began with a trip to the Museum of Modern Art on Friday evening with my cousin and a buddy of his. I put on my cool glasses and walked around feeling like an intellectual. The exhibits did not appeal to me in the slightest but I didn't display how I really felt. After a while I couldn’t keep up the pretext - I took my glasses off and began passing inane comments. The three of us would try to make sense out of nonsense, giggling like schoolgirls. It isn’t easy going through five floors of bad art and pretending that it’s working for you. On the other hand making fun of bad art can be quite entertaining. The best part of the entire experience was the café where I had a cup of really rich hot chocolate and didn’t spill any.

Chocolate schmocolate … we were exhausted and decided that we needed a drink. So we walked into the closest Irish bar and loaded up on Guinness. Now THAT felt really good!

That same weekend I went to the Opera. The production that we had tickets for was called Falstaff by Giuseppe Verdi, a comedy no less! I was told by some of my more frequent Opera going friends that this was a good one to break into.

The dress code was a big topic of conversation. Some people said that a “suit was the bare minimum but a tux would be the most appropriate” (while I rolled my eyes). “Jeans and blazer”, “Definitely wear a tie”, “Things are very different now – people dress very casual”. Anyway, I went with a button down shirt, dress pants and a blazer. And fit right in thank you very much.

I was always skeptical about the Opera. I’m not a big fan of Broadway musicals and I somehow never thought that I would get a kick out of fat people singing falsetto in a language that I didn’t understand. But was I in for a surprise! It’s hard to explain what I specifically enjoyed but I had a blast. I realize that people don’t have a ‘blast’ at the Opera but I did. I loved the grandeur theatre, the dramatic acting and singing, the subtitles (!) and the sets were amazing! The fat people were really fat and very entertaining. I felt completely enriched with the entire experience. The only thing I missed was seeing people watch it through those little binoculars. Do they not do that anymore?

We wanted to follow up the Opera performance with high tea at the Four Seasons or the Astoria Waldorf (did I neglect to mention that we went to a matinee performance?). Unfortunately we couldn’t get into either place as they were packed with people who wanted the same thing – tea in silver pots, little scones and crumpets, finger sandwiches and British accents. I was all set with mine but didn’t have anyplace to use it at.

All in all it was an entertaining weekend and I only consumed alcohol once. I’m going to ignore the part about watching a Bollywood film ‘Race’ in the theatre the same weekend. Just pretend that it never happened. It would completely be against my whole two days of being a culture vulture and we can’t have that, can we?

Spring Awaitening!

Many years ago I acted in a play called Spring Awakening. Which happens to be running on Broadway, 2 blocks from where my friends Subbu and Aparna live. Since this was so long ago, there isn’t too much I remember about the play except that we performed at Kala Mandir Basement in Calcutta during a time when English theatre was very popular with the student population and the burra saab snooty families of the city. I also remember some of the other cast members, the only claim to fame being Smita Tharoor, sister of author Shashi Tharoor and winner of the Miss Calcutta beauty pageant. In addition I remember having a crush on this other girl, whose initials are VS and who sadly didn’t feel the same way about me. Instead there was this third girl (whose name I can’t for the life of me remember) who felt the way I wanted VS to feel. And since I don’t even remember her initials, I’m sure you can understand the impact she made on me.

However, I digress here. Because this piece isn’t about the play. Or about the people that were a part of the play. I just happened to think of it since I’m so eagerly awaiting the arrival of spring.

For the folks that have been living in New York for a while, this has been a mild winter. We had only a few really arctic days and just one snowfall where the white stuff stuck on the ground for a couple of days. It’s not even the cold that has bothered me as much as it’s been the gloom. Cloudy, rainy, dark, gloomy days. How many of those can one take without feeling low? Coupled with flight cancellations, having to walk to places, not being able to find a cab, wind chill, it can become a real downer.

Hopefully the worst is behind us. Although one can never predict anything with the weather system anymore. Nothing is a surprise, what with tornados in December, snow in April, hot and humid conditions in October, who knows what’s really coming next.

And what’s with the spring collection in stores in January during sub-zero temperatures? I lost my really cool pair of ear muffs but I couldn’t find another pair for the life of me because stores were selling sunglasses and tank tops. Why would I want to walk into a store and try on a pair of shorts and a polo shirt and spend 10 minutes taking off all my layers and putting them back on again? I really DO have a life!

With what you’ve read so far, I’m sure you would never think that I’m just not a cold weather person! However it really is true. I admit that I don’t like winters (gasp). The cold makes me want to stay home instead of going out. It makes me want soup instead of sushi. It makes my teeth chatter when I’m outside and a few minutes later break into a sweat in the subway station. It brings rich Europeans to New York City at Christmas time who stand in line outside Tiffany’s and Saks Fifth Avenue like they’re a Walmart selling discounted junk.

But most of all I love spring because it means green trees instead of brown, it means more of the sun and less of the clouds, it means longer days, bigger smiles, more people on the streets, fewer clothes and not to forget a spring in my step! Bring it on baby!!

Walking down Penny Lane

Warning : This blog is very Beatles centric and will not be of much interest if you’re not familiar with their music.

Have you ever had a week that revolved around a certain topic or person or place or ….. a rock band? Last week was one such week for me.

MONDAY – Its just another day
I was flying out for a client engagement and was headed to LaGuardia airport. Most of the New York cabbies now have a little television in the back. It doesn’t broadcast regular channels and instead has these relatively short magazine type stories that most passengers could complete watching during the course of their ride. As the taxi entered Central Park to get to the east side of Manhattan, I heard the Beatles singing ‘Love me do’. I usually use taxi commutes to make phone calls and wasn’t paying attention to the television. Until the Lennon-McCartney duo began belting one of their early songs, at which point my radar went up and I began focusing my attention towards the screen. Quickly hanging up the phone I started watching a 10 minute clip on the life of the Beatles transporting me back to college when my friends and I used to eat, drink and sleep this band along with many of the classic rockers. The Beatles however were the Kings. Humming my way through check-in and boarding, this was turning out to be a great way to start my week.

As I stowed away my luggage into the overhead compartment of the aircraft (do I sound like a flight attendant making an announcement?) I took out the book I would read on the way. Haruki Murakami’s ‘Norwegian Wood’. For those of you that may not know, ‘NW’ was part of the Beatles ‘Rubber Soul’ album and one of the first Western songs that had an Indian musical instrument, the sitar being played by none other than George Harrison.

TUESDAY – A day in the life
Last summer I had worked with a television production house on conceptualizing and filming the pilot episode for a food and travel show to be aired on NDTV. Long and uninteresting story – didn’t continue with them and decided to move to New York City instead. A few weeks ago I heard from one of the guys I had worked with on the show (called Around the World in 85 Plates) that it was now being aired. I had been meaning to google it and see if I could watch an episode on the net. Finally on Tuesday I got the laptop out in my hotel room and did just that. I could hardly believe my ears when the anchor began the show by saying that he was in Liverpool outside the Beatles museum! The entire episode had the Beatles as a backdrop! And while the show in itself was strictly okay, I was tickled pink watching my favourite band making an appearance so soon into my life again!

WEDNESDAY – Day tripper
Wednesday was a non-Beatles day although their songs periodically would make their way into my head. Sometimes I would just break into one at my desk and get ‘a look’ from the guy who sits next to me followed by ‘a grin’.

THURSDAY – Eight days a week
Thursday was just a miserable day. I had been fighting a cold for the past week and was getting tired with all the fighting. So I wasn’t in the greatest mood which my co-workers who sit around me noticed right away (they have 4 of us consultants sharing a large open cubicle area). Mike, of the ‘look and grin’ fame, suggested that I should borrow his MP3 player (not an iPod) and listen to some music to get me out of the funk. ‘I have 3 CD’s of the Beatles in there’ he said. He really didn’t have to say more. As I listened to Abbey Road, the last album recorded by the Beatles I felt like here comes the sun into my life. As Maxwell’s silver hammer came down my demeanour started on an upswing. Because was soulful as was Something, probably the best song written by George Harrison. No surprise that the album was on the Billboard 200 for 149 weeks! And on my charts forever :)

FRIDAY – A hard days night
Woke up in the morning and began going through my mail. As usual there were 2 movies from Blockbuster and as I looked at the first one, I broke into a smile. My Beatles week hadn’t quite come to an end. I was going to be watching ‘Across the Universe’, a movie that has songs from the Beatles and characters named after their songs - (hey) Jude, Lucy (in the sky with diamonds), (sexy) Sadie, Max(well’s hammer), (dear) Prudence ….you get the drift. The movie had got great reviews when it came out and I could hardly wait to watch it. I popped the disk into the player early Friday evening, singing all their songs and loving every moment of the movie. A must-own by the way!

SATURDAY – Good day sunshine
The week was coming to an end. I was meeting a friend who was in the States from the mother country. Since I live one block from Central Park, I give everyone the grand tour of the park when they visit. We walked past the Dakota building where Lennon lived and walked into the section of the park called Strawberry Fields dedicated to the memory of John Lennon. The memorial consists of a mosaic, a gift from Italy, with ‘Imagine’ etched in the center. This part of Central Park has become a pilgrimage site for Lennon fans who place flowers and incense on his memorial every day.

It was a perfect end to my unplanned Beatles week. And as I continued to head away from Strawberry Fields, I thought it would be so cool if Lennon’s dream portrayed via his song ‘Imagine’ could ever become reality. Imagine all the people living life in peace … imagine that!

Coming to a mailbox near you ...

Today I decided that I was going to add blogging to the list of things I do.

The next time I meet someone new, which could possibly be in the next hour, and we begin talking (happens all the time) and when they finally pop the question…uh... the question of course being ‘what do you do besides work?’, I can add ‘blogging’ to my list of being a big foodie, a travel buff, a sports follower, a movie watcher, a book reader, etc. etc.

There are a lot of uninteresting people blogging out there. They write about their mundane lives and I bet can barely stay awake proof reading what they’ve written.

I, on the other hand have a very interesting life (or so I would like to believe)! How many people do you know that have been in a bank robbery, almost got thrown out of a train by a group of insane people being transported and not supervised, survived a vertebra fracture, been off salt and sugar for 2 years due to a rare blood disease, travelled across most continents, baked scrumptious desserts, thrown away a well paying, low stress, close-to-home job and moved to New York City...... Ah NYC … a lot of my writes are going to be about this unique metropolitan urban rollercoaster ride.

I’m certain I’ve perked up your interest. I’m positive you can hardly wait to read the next thing I post. I bet you’re going to be sending me fan mail pushing for more. However, be patient gentle reader because as we all know, the best things come to those who wait. And as much as I would like to entertain you on a daily basis via my more than exciting life, educate you with my pearls of wisdom and make you laugh with my uncanny sense of humour, I have many other things that I must do. Being single dimensional is not one of them.

However, I WILL be back. So much to write, so many ideas to share … do what you need to but you can't stop me now.