Homoeo'podi' (TBE # 1)

Well, I would not exactly include this incident under the topic "The Bhuvan Effect / TBE"), as it is not exactly an event where something that could not go wrong went wrong nonetheless. I have included it in the topic, as it was one of those events which reflect my "adventures" over the past 7+ years in Germany.

This occurred a few years back, probably sometime in 2002. A neighbour of mine from Vellore, India was travelling to USA, via Frankfurt. I had asked my mother to send me some 'podi's (spice powders) through him. What I did not know was that since his transit time was not more than 4 hours (or something like that), he was not entitled to a transit visa wherein he might leave the boarding area at Frankfurt airport, and I naturally could not enter the departure lounge as I did not have a boarding pass. Well, I went to the airport, was refused any access to this guy, and was disappointed. I was then directed to the Chief Duty Officer of the Frankfurt Int'l Airport, who said that only an emergency would entitle us to meet.

Naturally, I asked him what I should do to create an emergency. She was perplexed, and told me that an emergency usually "happened" and could not be "created". Hmm, but that gave me an idea. I told her that this friend was actually bringing some medicines for me. "What sort of medicines do you need that can not be obtained here in Germany?", she asked me. "Hmm, well, er, Homoeopathy medicines", I retorted. "Germany is the home of homoeopathy. Tell me the nature of the medicine, and I will decide if or not to let you get them from him." Oops, there I was caught. But not so fast...

I told her that I could explain her better if I actually had the stuff with me, instead of describing my illness that needed the medicines. Good, she ordered an airport officer to get into the plane and get the medicines from this friend. The "medicines" were brought to customs, where a small group of officers had gathered wondering at the various "podi's" that my mother had sent me. They suspected it was probably some kind of drugs. Allmächdna!!!

I was in a quandary, and had a good deal of explanation to do. "Where are your medicines?". "Yes, where are my medicines?" "And what are these powders?" Well, this is what i told them. "Oh my God, you have got the wrong powders. These are indeed not the medicines I was looking for. They are spice powders. This, for example is coriander powder. This one here is pulse powder (paruppu podi). To make this, you do this, bla bla bla...". But then hey, where are my medicines? The idiot forgot my medicines.

I guess the explanation was either too convincing, or too confusing. More probably the latter. It has always been my principle - "If you can't convinve them, confuse them". The customs official just said: Get lost!!! And did I have a message for my friend, which they could give him on the plane? Why, of course, yes!!! On a piece of paper, I wrote in English: "You idiot, where are my medicines? Am pissed off!!!" Immediately below that, I wrote in Tamil: "Hey, thanx. I got 'em".

Well, looking back at that incident now, I feel that I was taking too much risk for nothing. But then, that is the thrill in it. In my life, I have always done things just for the thrill of it, overlooking the underlying risks. And have suffered the consequences a few times, too.

But then tell me, what is Bhuvan if not the risk and thrill factor? No risk, no Bhuvan. No thrill, no Bhuvan effect!!! Carpe diem.

The Bhuvan Effect

Most probably you would already have heard of Murphy's law. In short it says: "Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong." Like the buttered side of a bread always falling face down when you drop it.

Well, my experiences here in Germany (so-called Ger'Mania', eponymous with this blog) have led some people here to formulate what is known as the "Bhuvan Effect". It is simply a corollary to Murphy's law. Put in simple terms, Bhuvan Effect states that: "Even if some thing can never ever go wrong, it still will." More clearly, if there are 'n' number of possible outcomes to an event, and none of them can go wrong, then there will surely be an 'n+1'th outcome that never existed before, which will simply turn out just when the event occurs.

No, I am not bluffing. Believe me, it has really occurred, and not just once. Even I found it hard to believe, but quite a few events in the past have led me to believe in the possibility of the existence of such an effect. And it is about these events that I will be blogging about on these pages in the coming time.

So, watch out for it - "The Bhuvan Effect". Cheers !!!

Im Herzen der Scheisse

I have always wanted to document my adventures in Deutschland by way of a book. Something on the lines of "A year in the Merde" (Stephen Clarke), giving it an equally atrocious name. Thought of quite a few titles, like "Eine Ewigkeit in der Scheisse" (a blatant and near-perfect copy of the title), "Sick of home", "Boo-1", etc., but decided against all these, as I did not feel any of these to reflect what I wanted to put in the book. Moreover, everytime I have sit down to write something, I have balked at it, as I always comfortably find a stumbling block (hehehe, some call it "laziness").

So it is really a surprise that I have now decided to get my hands dirty by starting to put some words on to paper. I have already started collecting points (yes, points !!!) for the book, like a list of events (read: adventures) to write about. Hope my dear friends and fellow conspirators would pitch in with their own reminscences and correct me and update me when and where I go wrong or forgetful. Once I have started writing, I can always think of a good title for the "book"...

Let me see if I really manage to get the show on the road!!! Cheers :)

Back from hibernation

OK..the pause has really been too long, more than 2 1/2 years. There are quite a few reasons for me for having discontinued with my blogging, the foremost being the mother of all causes - laziness. In technical terms, a body in inertia needs a high starting force (or torque) to start it and set it in motion. Well, put "laziness" instead of inertia, and "kick on the butt" for starting force/torque, and there you have it - the recipe for getting out of literary coma.

What caused this inertia? And what was the proverbial kick on the B? The fact I was looking for a job that time back in 2006, and the consequential dis-attention I gave to writing, was one. And the raison d'etre behind my attempt to revitalize the blog? Was feeling really dissed and de-motivated about me, my life and pretty much lots of things around me.

Well, I guess that keeping up a blog, and the motivation to keep it alive, is good enough a way to spend time meaningfully and gear myself up for greater things. Let me see if I maintain it, or much like many other things I am known to do, leave it stranded in its nascent stages again.

There has to be a start somewhere, somehow, and here it is. (Thank you Al Bundy) Let's rock!!!

Nothing More, Nothing Less (Obituary)

It was September, 2001. I had been in Germany for just a few days, having come from India for the Masters course in Electrical Engineering at Fachhochschule Darmstadt (FH Darmstadt in short, or University of Applied Sciences, Darmstadt). It was the introductory meeting of our course, where the professors were being introduced to us. That was the first time I saw him. His pleasing manner had won over everyone. At the end of the meeting, I wanted to choose him for my mentor. As I approached him, there was a small crowd of my classmates around him. When I asked him if I could have him as my mentor, he smiled and responded, "Why not? But I believe every professor is allowed just 3 wards." Well, I believe that the number 15 is greater than 3!!! And I was outside the closed interval [1,3]!!! An energetic, ever-smiling and pleasing personality, Prof. Horst Friedrich Roeder exuded the mirth of a man who knew not what it was to be stern. At least in appearance. None of us ever saw him angry. Or displeased. He always had a smile, and his carefree and relaxed manner was contagious. It stuck to every one of his students. Not just as a person, but also as a teacher.

And oh, I forgot to mention that he also taught us some subjects. Certain facets of a person's life are so over-bearing, that sometimes we forget that the other facets even existed. Like how wonderful a teacher Prof. Roeder was. He taught us Communication Principles, Advanced Modulation Principles and Information Networks (Parts I and II), in addition to leading some projects in Technical Management and also System Design modules. I would rather say he 'introduced' us to the subjects, instead of saying he 'taught' them. And he 'introduced' them not in the sense of showing us something new, but like you are introduced to a beautiful girl (if you are a guy) or to a cool guy (if you are of the fairer sex) at a party, whence you develop an interest in her / him, leading up to a relationship. It was a sort of romantic interest that he induced in us for the subjects he taught us, for here was a man for whom no teaching material was worth more than a few pages, no derivation to an equation was worth more than a few easy steps, and no solution to a complex problem was worth more than a few minutes of your valuable thought and time. To use his own words, every thing is just simple, "nothing more, nothing less". We used to imitate his mannerism of using this phrase quite often. So often that we started believing that not only the course, but everything else, was cool and simple. Nothing more, nothing less.

So much he believed in the beauty of learning that he told us that education was more than just getting good grades in our exams. "If good grades are all you want, I will give them provided you show me you have learnt something." How many teachers have we seen who would say that you do not need to solve a problem in the examination to its end to obtain full marks for it? Like Prof. Roeder told us regarding solving a Viterbi Decoding problem. "You need not get the final solution. If I can just get a hint that you have understood it, which you can prove by proceeding in the right way to solve it in its first few stages, then you will get full points for it, without having even completed the solution." Or how often does a Professor start explaining to you how to solve a problem, right when an examination is in progress? Like he did during our first semester. I still vividly remember him handing us over the actual questions for his exams in advance. "If passing in exams makes you happy, then let it be so. Exams mean nothing with regard to your learning process."

I worked under him twice. The first was during our semester break in February 2002, when almost every one in the class worked for him in the 2-MN project, creating MS PowerPoint presentations for an e-learning system ELAT. Many students continued it as their Technical Management project in the second semester, whence they not only got excellent grades for it but also were paid handsomely for it. I opted out of it, because I could never accept money for something that was mandatory as part of my course. I would either get grades for it, or money. Not both. Some time during that semester, one of his sons died in a motorcycle accident. That shook him terribly. But any one who saw him at that time, or afterwards, would not have believed that he was a man in mourning. He was serene and calmer than his usual self, I agree, but definitely not visibly shaken. At least that is how we students saw him. Including me, who worked under him a second time the following year. It was when one of my friends recommended me to him for another module of the same ELAT project. She had been doing the video presentation part of it, and I had to do the audio part. I was to provide audio background for the PowerPoint presentations of his teaching material. Not only did I just record my voice, but also I corrected and improved many of the slides. He was impressed. "Wonderful! Excellent!" Now, this was his standard remark to any student for anything. Do what you will. You could expect him to shower you lavishly with praise, which normally consisted of these phrases. And more. But this time I knew it was not just words by rote. He really appreciated my effort in not just stopping with my work, but also in going the extra mile to make it perfect. And boy, did I love it!!!

And then one day I stopped working on the project. Not that I did not like it, but I had to concentrate on my Thesis. But I made the mistake of not communicating it to Prof. Roeder. I had made lots of audio slides, which I did not submit to him. At the beginning I thought I would give him those slides in a few weeks’ time. Then I felt sheepish how I could contact him after this break. Let me finish the entire module and submit to him. I did finish the module, but never submitted it to him, as I was trying to find words to tell him why I did not even communicate with him. Not that he would have needed any explanation from me, being the person he was. But I felt I owed him one. I did not know what I was waiting for. Probably for my degree certificate, which I got 3 weeks back. I felt the time was ripe to meet him to inform him about the completion of my course and also to submit whatever I had done. But he was unavailable. He was also unavailable when I had been at the FH to invite some professors for the Diwali Function we had organized at Darmstadt towards the end of October last year. I managed to invite a few professors, but Prof. Roeder was the conspicuous absentee, as I could not reach him.

Well, I never bothered to ask at the department where I could reach him. For a person like him who always made himself available to us all in spite of his tight schedule, I felt it queer that I had to ask some one else for his availability. That was simply not the way Prof. Roeder operated. And then last Sunday I happened to overhear two students speaking about some announcement that was due soon. I caught some phrases that made me curious. When I asked them if it was anything that would interest me, they just shrugged, and said: "Well, we don't know if it might interest you or not. May be you know Prof. Roeder. The guy from the Communication department at the Fachhochschule. He died of cancer last week."

We always thought he had a simple solution to every problem. Probably he did not have an answer to this one. This was one time when Prof. Roeder could not answer with a poignant "Ja" - to the question of life. Nature, with time, is the best leveller. Not without reason, do they say, "Nature is the best teacher." And then, of course, there was Prof. Roeder. Rest in Peace, dear Professor.

Interregnum

in·ter·reg·num
n. pl. in·ter·reg·nums or in·ter·reg·na (-n)

1. The interval of time between the end of a sovereign's reign and the accession of a successor.
2. A period of temporary suspension of the usual functions of government or control.
3. A gap in continuity.
   

What is happening? Am I lazy? Or have I simply run out of steam? If anything is sure, it is that I have definitely not run out of ideas to write a few words on this blog. Well, I do not mean just typing what I feel, because even though this is supposed to be a personal blog, I understood long back it had transcended that barrier and become public property. Meaning, I have an unspoken responsibility towards the readers of this blog, and take care not to just spew trash in the name of a blog. That would be simply unfair of me, irrespective of what every one else says or does.

So does that mean I write a rigmarole everytime my fingers kiss the keyboard? Write only of cerebral or esoteric stuff? Nay, that is not why I started writing this blog for. I wanted to put in words my experiences here in Germany, so that I can re-live them, and also let the readers relish them. And I do have wonderful experiences every day. Though I would love to blog every one of those, I think it is not worthwhile, as such an exercise will only tone down the intensity of my blogs about other more pen-worthy experiences.

So, I have decided to do this. Make it a point to write atleast a post a week, probably more, but at the same time keep them worthy of being read by every one. This means I have to exercise my 'grey cells' at least once a week, so that I am always blog-ready. It is also good way to keep my brain active, what with my lazy lifestyle at the moment - having finished my course and just applying for jobs, and doing some part-time jobs, and of course, having fun. It is time that I start using other areas of my brain (Ooooh...enough said...get on with something else da...)

There are some 'events' that I wanted to write about very badly, but simply could not do it so far. I would write about them in the coming days. Some of them may be deemed unpalatable to some people - I mean the way I saw them and see even now. But it is imperative that I write what I feel, because if I do not defend myself, no one else will.

And then, there was this piece that my classmate Ms. Pallavi Rao sent me. She wanted me to post a blog on this piece - an extract from Adolf Hitler's Mein Kampf. Now, how many times have we seen his name cropping up out of nowhere, and every time there is a gasp, with people finding it quite unfathomable why on earth would onle like to disturb his ghost? Well, in this piece Mr. Hitler refers to India (the British colony of India, that is), and Pallavi wanted that I post my views on this. Well, I would not post a literary criticism on it, but just express my views on how relevant the issues expressed thereof are to the present-day country that is India. But I need some time to read it and do a write-up. Patience.

The following events deserve mention, and a few lines of blogspace here:

1. The Diwali function(s) at Darmstadt that I took an active part in organizing.
2. My adventures in the guise of having fun - my late-nighters at discos, my cyciling trip to Mainz and other such adventures.
3. My views on the piece about India in the extract from Mein Kampf, recommended to me by my friend Pallavi Rao.
4. My forthcoming proposed trip to Austria.


With this teaser, I sign off for the moment. But keep looking in this space in the coming days. Es lohnt sich (It is worth it). The interregnum is coming to an end.

'U' and 'I'

Aeons came and aeons went past,
But I always felt something missing,
So cruel that time slips by fast,
Too hazy for me to realize a thing.

Was it love or just something cheap,
I can but only stare and wonder,
'Tween me and ye lay a chasm so deep,
Me stranded here and you over yonder.

Was it trust or belief shatter'd,
That caused us to part our ways?
But what use it is, all that matter'd
Was the truth, we haven't met for days.

I do know dear what's missing,
I saw across aeons the vowels queue,
They had in them almost everything,
Except may be dear, just 'I' and 'U'.

Note: 'Aeon' - alternate spelling for 'eon', meaning 'age'.

For whom...

Well, my Thesis is finally over..and with it ends one of the longest sagas in the history of Darmstadt...hahaha...I don't know how easy it is for others to have a Schadenfreude of their own selves and actions, but for me it is all the same. I am only relieved that it is all done and dusted..good or bad, it is over.

So many trials and tribulations..it was a case of trial and terror (the 't' is not a typo) for me all through this time, losing friends at a time when I needed them badly, and it was a strange sense of de ja vu every time when, as they say, another bird flew off the nest. Reasons were given, but none asked, of why it took so long for it to finish, or why I took so long to finish it (both do not necessarily mean the same). But except the fewest of the few, no one was there to cheer the end of the Thesis, save me. And that was all that mattered. I am still there, as proud and sanguine as ever, with the past behind me..I would love to write more, but at a later date.

For now, I would just present the poem that I wrote in the Dedication section of my Thesis report. It reflects my state of mind during my Thesis, and how I felt about finishing it, and to whom and why it was dedicated. Many may not agree with me, and most will just brush me off as another sick weasel that has forgotten its destination, but I care less...for the moment, all that matters is..I have finished my Thesis. Do you hear me? I-have-finished-my-Thesis.

I am a wary, way-laid traveller...
Left with nothing but my spirit.
But a spirit which refuses to flicker,
For ages it has but not been lit.

Do I deserve to go ahead,
After all that's transpired,
Or should I just stop dead,
For sure I'm no more inspired.

I can't see any one on the wait,
Who will hold me in their arms,
When I've got the better of my fate,
One who can conjure up those charms.

And then I hear some one say,
Hey wait, you do have some one,
May be they are light years away,
For them, let this work be done.

They may not know your pain,
But they know who you are,
The phoenix that time and again,
Rises to give destiny a scare.

“To them I dedicate this work...

To my parents...”

Gabel und Messer

I had known all along that my German was not bad. But today (Sunday- Sept. 4), while working at my coffee shop, I found that it was not just 'not bad', but also good enough to compose a poem (hehehe...). I was having a pizza, and was fiddling around with a knife and fork. It was then that this brainwave hit me.

"Warum brauche ich Gabel und Messer,
Wann mit Hand geht es besser..."

(Translation: "Why do I need a knife and fork, when with my hand it would do better...")

Watch out folks, who knows may be another Goethe is in the making!!!

An evening with 'Vishy'

Photo courtesy: Manoj Kanakamedala / Dibakar R.C.

Anand at Mainz for the Grenke-Leasing Classic. I was halfway through my daily cursory scan of the news websites last week, when something flashed across my sights. So what's great about it? That I live not a stone's throw from Mainz, free to travel anytime there free of cost with the aid of my student ticket. And this for the past 4 years. And Vishy (Vishwanathan Anand for the uninitiated) has been visiting Mainz every year the past 4 years. And as was custom, I would plan to visit Mainz every year to meet him and miss out on it owing to some frivolous last-minute work crossing my path and dumping my plans in the bin.

Oops, cool, shall I go meet him? (I could hear my 'other me' mocking at me: O! Lazy moron...fourth year in a row, and you're not gonna make it again...guffaws...) I was determined to make it this time. And then I saw the date. Goodness gracious...the tournament ran from August 9 through August 14. And it was already August the 11th. Should I risk my schedule to make a trip which I was not even sure would be successful? I did not know about the situation in Germany, but if it were India, the organizers would normally have not let me get anywhere near Vishy. Well, I decided to take the baton.

Now, I needed a camera. A digital camera. One thing that I did not possess, despite all my journalistic adventures, was a camera. Luckily one of my friends had bought a new camera, and another had bought a new battery-charger. As if things were falling in place specially for me. So, equipped with the camera and a set of charged batteries, I planned for my trip the following evening to Mainz with one of my friends - Mr. G - who I will now reveal to be Gururaj. (Mark Felt? "I am Deep Throat"? Move over Woodward and Bernstein!).

Note: All the photos and scanned copies of the autographs may be found here.

We reached the Hilton Mainz hotel. We were revelling in the surroundings, but there were more pressing issues ahead, including the small matter of meeting the World Champion (ok former, but he still surely is among the top 3) Vishy. We were unsure of what to expect and were loitering in the grand corridor outside the playing halls, when a desi guy (that too from Madurai) ran into us. And cool, he was a close friend of Vishy. He cooly asked us, "While you are waiting for Vishy, why not take the autographs of some other chess players?" Who? "Like, Peter Svidler, who is right behind you!!!" Wow...there was Svidler himself, and he gleefully posed for a photograph with us, and signed an autograph. But the occassion could get only bigger...and there was Vishy himself arriving at the playing hall with his wife Aruna. No trace of pretension, no showmanship. Simple. He appeared cool and calm, his match due in ten-minute's time. When we approached him, he gave us a warm smile, and we spoke to his wife if it was possible to get an autograph from him. She just said, "Shall we have it after the match?" Well, we sat in for the match.

Believe me, that was the first ever chess match I had ever sat through in my life. Just like Svidler was the first ever renowned chess player I had met in my life. Yes, I agree I may sound silly and childish in my descriptions and exclamations, but even that would not have described in full my sense of awe and excitement that pervaded me that moment. Vishy was playing the black pieces against Alexander "Sasha" Grischuk of Russia. After about 45 minutes of intense duelling, Grishchuk ran out of time, and resigned. Anand had won with the black pieces!!! Man, I am a lucky charm (hehehe...)

We shot pictures of ourselves with Anand at the table, and then got autographs and photos with his wife, who on hearing that I was from Tamilnadu, spoke to me in pure Brahminical Tamil: "Neenga evvalavu naala inge irukkel?" (How long are you here?) So simple and unassuming the couple was, I seriously began to harbour doubts if the non-cricketing fraternity in India is reallying getting the cold shoulder from fans and others alike. I have been used to the arrogance and upmanship of the Indian cricketers, having met them just before the historic 2001 series against the Australians, when they trained at the IIT grounds at Chennai.

Vishy's (and his wife's) attitude was a sea change from those of the cricketers. And that too, Vishy was not just another club player or a faceless amateur. Here was a two-time world champion, a man who challenged the chess demi-god Kasparov for the world title and made him sweat before losing out, the undisputed king of rapid chess, the man who single-handedly gave India its respect in the sporting world, at a time and in a place where acievements by individual Indian sportspersons were rarer than Bush uttering a whole long sentence without his usual Bushisms. Well, to put it simply: Vishy was, and still is, India's pride in chess, nay, the entire sporting world. Bloody hell, he is an icon!

OK, ok, back to business. After the usual post-mortem at the end of the match, Anand moved out of the hall for a press conference. We waylaid him and requested for an autograph, and, er, a photograph. And there we were..our 5 minutes of fame with Vishy. He patiently posed for the photos, without as much a hint of unease or such things as is shown by most of our cricketers (well, Sachin Tendulkar was an exception when I had met him 4 years back). Then he politely asked me, "Neengalum Press Meet-ku varalame?" (Why not come to the Press Meet?) So we sat through the Press Meet.

Once it was over, there was a short interview from Doordarshan, India's national broadcaster. Once he was done with it, he stood up to leave. Now was the moment. We approached him and asked for a photo of him and his wife with us. "Oh, eduthukkalamae!!!" (Why not? Let's have it!!!) And them came the sucker punch. Our camera memory had run out. We had forgotten to bring an extra memory card. With it, even our brains began to run dry of ideas. Should I delete this picture? Or the next? We had to delete atleast two pics, if we had to take the group photo with Vishy and his wife. I was getting mad with every passing minute.

Photo courtesy: Manoj Kanakamedala / Dibakar R.C.

"We are making him wait, you idiot...No, delete this, not that...", I was shouting at poor G, who was totally blank, and was like the proverbial hare caught in the headlights. And all through, Vishy was smiling and waiting, and so was his wife. "No problem, take your time". I can't believe my ears. The evening was filled with surprises, and they were never-ending. Once we had settled our dispute as to clearing the memory card, we snapped pictures of Vishy and Aruna with us. And we got autographs from Grishchuk and (Zoltan) Almasi to boot.

And there was more in store for us. The parting line from Mr. and Mrs. Anand summed up not just the entire evening, but also the personality that he is. "You must both be present tomorrow for the remaining games, too". And, "marupadiyum vandellna nanna irukkum" (It will be nice if you can visit again). Simplicity and humility at its best.

In a world where even an amateur sportsman or the new kid on the block flaunts his wares, it is indeed rare to see people like Vishy and his wife, who never for once forgot the twin principles of humility and courtesy. And I put it bluntly to Anand: "If it were India, I doubt if we would have been allowed to even get near you. Even if you so wished, the organizers and policewallahs would have never let us get anywhere near you". And he just gave his usual smile in reply.

Did I go the next day? Well, I would have loved to, but for the only fact that I thought frequent visits would render the magic of that first evening with the Anand couple meaningless. It would be nice to boast in the future that I met Vishy Anand three days in a row from close quarters, but I felt it was far more important that I did not lose that sense of excitement of meeting him as casually as a friend walking in on a visit. I wanted to savour that moment of having met the first ever down-to-earth icon I have personally come across in my life. And man, am I savouring it!!!

Note: All the photos and scanned copies of the autographs may be found here.

An epic in six words

It is a poem I composed almost 4 years ago, when I was new to Germany. My German was horrible, save for a few basic words, and my Hindi close to zilch. It was under such momentuous circumstances that I composed this wonder of a poem, if you would call it so. It consists of just six words - yes, just six in all. Two German, two Hindi and two English words.

It is all about the musings - or ramblings for that is what it is - of a poor lover about his beloved. He is so desparate to show-case his love to her that he is lost for words, and is all at sea as to what language to use. So he uses all the three mentioned above. Concisely.

Tum bin, ich bin, dust bin...

Here is a translation:

Tum bin (Hindi) - without you
ich bin (German) - I am
dust bin (English) - of course what it is, dust bin!!!

An epic in six words, eh??? But I am one who firmly believes that language is no bar to express your love. Or, to put it thus, "No dictionary is useful to him who can not understand the language of the heart..." Am becoming too amorous, I guess.

All About A Wish

My uncle got married recently. Strange, but he is just a year elder to me. I call him uncle, though, as that's how my mother taught me to call him when I was a kid. And as with all kids, it stuck. Not without reason did Haim Ginott say, "Children are like wet cement. Whatever falls on them makes an impression". Many have wondered why I call him uncle, even though I am but a year or so younger to him. And I have always quipped, "Well, because he is my uncle". But still to many, it is inded strange that I should call him this way.

Ah, I told you he got married. His bride is younger than me by more than 2 years. In India, especially the southern part where I come from, such a situation sometimes leads to interesting complications. Should I call her aunt, because she is my uncle's wife, or should I call her by her name? And how it be when I call him uncle, now that he is married and the sight of some one about the same age as him calling him an uncle in front of his wife and others? Not important questions, I agree, but intriguing and funnily interesting nonetheless.

And talking of him, oh my God is he married? It just seems like yesterday that we were in the same school at Dharmapuri, my native place, where there were four of our family studying at the same time - I, him, another of my uncles and an aunt. Well, let you not think they were too old simply because I call them so. It's the same as my calling this uncle an uncle. Let me not make it more complicated. Not a single day went by without at least one of us filing complaints on another over events during the course of the day at school. No incident, no mis-doing, no incident of misdemeanour by any of us would go unreported. In fact, I personally feared more for the end-of-day reports made at home by one of these than the teachers themselves. Probably because I could hoodwink the teachers at will and get away with my tricks, but not the Big Brother - not one but three of them. They seemed to be omniscient, aware of incidents which even I did not remember having perpetrated.

Well, in any case, now he is married. And I have to greet him. It was unfortunate that I could not be there at his wedding, me being a little far away (the little matter of 8000 km notwithstanding), and I had to make up for it. Why not send him a greeting?

Easy to say, but what exactly should I write in my greeting. First of all, what can I wish some one who is elder to me, even though by just a year or so? This was but one of the few confusing questions that floated in my mind, before I hit upon this poem you see below. It may bear some resemblance to my previous blog regarding Viel Glück-Viel Spaß. I just developed upon this idea, only that I reversed the roles - of the bride being the poor one having married the mischievous trickster my uncle used to be (LOL)!!! And thus it goes...

All About A Wish

Many a time I've wondered aloud
How to wish you dear the best.
But more so if I'm allowed
At all, at your expense to jest. (1)

To dearest you a happy married life
I could wish, to be just simple.
But what with wishes so rife,
'Tis hard to pick a good sample. (2)

Even to bless you is tall order
'Tis my wish though to bless you rich.
How can I, for to me ye're elder,
And she not younger than me by much. (3)

Finally I'd rather settle for this one
'Tis a wish that'll stand time's test.
To you tricky dodger a lot of fun,
To the poor li'l dame all the best. (4)

-Bhuvan.

Viel Glück - Viel Spaß

Germans use two words very commonly - Viel Spaß and Viel Glück. The first means Lots of Fun and the second Lots of Luck literally. Viel Spaß (pronounced feel-shpas) is used whenever we take leave or at the end of a work day. Viel Glück (pronounced feel-gleeck) is used to wish some one good luck, as one may have easily deduced.

I used to wish my friends either of these two whenever they were about to take an exam or some other endeavour. I always wish some one Viel Glück if he has worked hard and prepared well, coz the poor guy needs all the luck so that his efforts do not go waste. On the contrary, if he has not prepared anything, I wish him Viel Spaß, coz what else can the poor bugger do at the exam hall without any preparation, other than just staring at the question paper? It is only apt that I wish the guy some fun with his exam, as there is nothing else for him to do there!!!

The other day I was asking my chef at the coffee shop where I do my part-time job, what the usual greeting in Germany was, when some one got married. He was confused, coz he could not remember a single greeting that was common throughout Germany, at least not at that particular moment. It was then that I got a brainwave. I suggested that they normally say Viel Spaß to the bride, and Viel Glück to the poor bridegroom. It took some minutes for the laughter to die down at my workplace. Come to think of it, isn't it true? And apt? God bless the couple. Amen!!!

Labour Pains

Author's Note: When I started writing this blog, never for a moment did I believe that I could use this as a forum to write on 'serious' topics, though some of my posts (viz., A Damning Revelation, Cause for Concern?, etc.) would point to the contrary. So I was quite unprepared when I got a call from one of my friends - a couple whom I have known for quite sometime now, and was perplexed when they narrated to me the incident described here.

The couple requested me to post a write-up on their experience, so that others will know what they suffered, and be a tad more careful and cautious when they face a similar experience themselves. They were, and still are, unsure whether they should take legal recourse to their sufferings. But they wanted that their sad experience should at least be made public, in the interest of others who might end up in a similar situation, as well as the general public who might comment and suggest what the couple could possibly do to alleviate their misery. This article, however, is NOT a reflection on the state of affairs throughout Germany, nor is it a blanket accusation on all doctors alike. It is just a whistle-blower on some ironies in the system here.

At the time I wrote the post Cause for Concern? the most I expected to come out of it was a slight caution on the side of the students and others here who might read it, when they approached the doctors here. A random one-off incident - that is how I dismissed it, though my experiences during the past 4 years suggested otherwise. Little did I realize that I will be hearing about an even worse and more serious example of the apathy and callousness of the system (read: doctors) here.

I have known this couple for more than three years now. Let me just call them 'she' and 'he'. Sounds odd for pseudonyms, but I cannot get myself to name them otherwise, even if it is only for the sake of maintaining their anonymity. I am afraid I will lose my sense of neutrality if I use their original names (not that there are no other reasons for doing it), and I will be doing gross injustice to myself if I narrate the incident as having happened to some one else, even if it is only the names that I am replacing. No, let it be just 'she' and 'he'.

Around January this year she approached a Frauenärtztin (Gynaecologist) in Darmstadt, suspecting she might be pregnant. Blood tests were done, and the results were negative. She was given twelve pills – hormones to regulate her menstrual cycle, of which she consumed all but one. At this juncture, just on a whim she wanted to confirm her suspicions. She performed some pregnancy tests herself, using kits available at any pharmacy. To her shock, she found that she was indeed pregnant, whence she returned to the doctor. By now, she was sure there had sincerely been some mistake in the blood tests. Her suspicions were confirmed, and she was declared pregnant. The foetus was eight weeks old. In her own words, “She (the doctor) gave us lots of hopes saying that the foetus is visible clearly in the ultrasound scan and further said she is going to measure the heart beat of the baby next time …”. She was prescribed some vitamins, and was asked to consult the doctor after a month. Joy turned to despair when it was revealed that the foetus, now three months old, was dead. (She suspects it was probably because of the hormone pills prescribed by the gynaecologist.) She was referred to a famous hospital in Darmstadt (name withheld), for surgical removal of the dead foetus. Sometime in April, she was operated, and the foetus removed.

When she returned home, she had some pains. Three other ladies upon whom the same surgery was performed seemed to be relatively at ease, showing no signs of pain or malaise. In June, the pains got so intense that she approached another gynaecologist, who was of the opinion that the surgery was probably not properly performed, as a result of which her womb was damaged. The doctor also opined that probably she might never get pregnant again. Nevertheless, the doctor thought it better to diagnose her for some hormonal problems, the results of which are still awaited.

The couple wishes to take legal recourse, but they find the cost and complexity of the legal system here prohibitive. Especially for a foreigner, who might easily be branded an Auslander, it is but the last resort to seek the services of a lawyer here. I am not exaggerating facts here, but this is the situation with most foreigners here, especially those from the third world countries. But at the least, they wanted their plight to be made public so that others might know of it and be aware of the pitfalls in the system here.

This is where they stood different from most other Ausländer - foreigners - especially from a third world country. Where one might easily have swallowed his / her bad experience and resigned themselves to their fate, this couple decided to put one back. Where others would say, "Hey, yes I have a problem with this aspect of the society. But what can I do? I am after all an 'Auslander' who came here for some work, so let me just digest anything and everything that is thrown at me, and ignore them", this couple decided to brave the odds. Believe me, in my four years here as a foreign student, most of the people in this bracket (third-world-foreigner / student) have never openly come out against their problems with the system. I do not suggest that one must be bellicose and be ready for a fight every time he faces something unpleasant. Rather the contrary.

For one, I believe that if you keep quiet when you face a problem, you are guilty of omission, since you are not helping some one else avoid a similar problem in the future. By not letting others know that there is a problem, you are snatching an opportunity to address this problem prima facie, which may well have helped solving it. But after all, is this not the norm? It is just a handful of people who are man enough to accept that there is a problem in the first place, leave alone come out with it in the open. May be it is because of the attitude prevalent in our countries that it is not manly to tell others you have a problem. If you have a problem, then keep it to yourself, and do not go about washing your dirty linen in public, for it is not the mark of a man. Pity, linen it is I agree, but definitely not dirty.

I would discuss the implications of this incident and the mentality of the lonely Auslander in a separate post in the future. For now, it suffices to say that I am pumped up and glad to see at least one person (or two) having the stomach to hit back. Two Davids, against the Goliath that the system here is. Hats off to thee. Carpe Diem.

'Hairy' Potter

'Hairy' Potter

Oops...got a bit carried off...No comments!!!

Stillborn Fantasy

Hmm..the comma is really turning into a coma..so let me get my paper and pen again (or as you may call in the age of computers, "...let me get my fingers on the keyboard...") Though it may seem to be quite a break between my previous and current posts, I was not snoozing in the meantime. I was, as usual in the past, busy with my Thesis which is certainly nearing its conclusion, but also writing up some posts for the blog, which have as yet not been published. They have to wait, at least for the time-being.

I started writing a novel some 2 years back, but as befits my dilettante nature, I discontinued it after writing some pages. Partly because of this, and partly because I was forever changing the theme of the novel, I did not deem it fit to continue writing it, at least at that moment. A lot has changed since, my outlook on certain events among other things, and I thought the time was ripe to restart it. Well, things may happen, my outlook may change and so will the theme of the novel, but I decided to nevertheless carry on with it. I can not let this baby of mine be any more stillborn. Let me whack the life out of this moribund effort.

As with the theme, the title of the novel also has changed many times. What started as Metamorphosis became Diplomatic Immunity and later turned out to be Guest Appearance. So much for my determination to write a book, and a Novel (with a capital N) at that. I am not sure what I will name it now, or if the title will persist to the end, but one thing is certain. I am determined to continue with my endeavour :-) (yeah, I can hear your guffaws...take it out on me), even if it means only a few lines at a time. As they say, Rome was not built in a day.

So, let the magic begin...

'Comma' or 'Coma' - Back with a bang

Hmm...comatose I would call it..the huuuuugggeee break I had between my last post and the current one..let me calculate...April 6th was the last one..today is June 29th..this makes it 84 days..man that was indeed comatose!!!

Well, I had been sort of busy with my work but that is not a reason for not writing regularly, especially when the actual reason I started this blog was to keep my writing skills alive, and also as a detour from my schedule. Na, forget it then...better now and late than never again at all!!! And boy..do I have something to write? Why, hell a lot...so pardon me meine liebe Damen und Herren if I decide to choke you with so much stuff all at one go.

And talking of being 'comatose', this quip crossed my mind some time back..I promise you it is original and I made it up myself:

"Every one faces problems at some time or the other in his life. Those who take it as a 'comma' and get on with life, make history. Those who take it as a 'coma' and plunge deep into it, become history!!!"

So I think the basic difference in facing a problem is in whether you consider it just a 'comma' and carry on, or a 'coma' and fade into oblivion!!! Boy...am I thinking up stuff....Well, I just came out of a 'coma', eh? So I can be forgiven for that I guess...that is, atleast until my next 'coma'!!!

Er'ledig't...

Hier ist einen Witz der ich irgendwo gelesen hab' (aber auf Englisch). Ich fühlte daß es sehr klug wäre, wenn es ins Deutsch übersetzt ist, aber mit einer kleinen Änderung.

Der Witz auf English läuft so: "Before his marriage, a man is incomplete. After that, he is finished!"

Ich hab' es ein bißchen modifiziert...hier geht's:

>> Vor seiner Hochzeit ist ein Mann 'ledig'. Nach der ist er 'erledigt'. <<

Guck' mal: Nach der Hochzeit ist er nicht mehr ledig, sondern ist er er-ledig-t!!!

Es ist ein kluges Wortspiel, wo man die Bedeutung von Englisch ins Deutsch nicht verliert!!!

Twice, yeah...Coincidence, naah...

This is one for those of you who have been parched for life after the gutless performance of our dearest men in blue (though this time they were donning white flannels) against the men in green from across the border.

Once, they say, is an incident. Twice, coincidence. So the saying goes, thrice is a conspiracy. Say this to our friend R. Poor guy, his place (Delhi) has of late been in the news for all the wrong reasons. OK...incident, I agree. But what if both the times the places in news have something or the other to do with R? I mean both the DPS-MMS scandal last year, and this one at IIT-Delhi!!! For those uninitiated, here is a refresher regarding the DPS scandal.

And yeah, I forgot to mention something. DPS@RK-Puram, the site of the scandal, was the alma mater of R. And IIT-Delhi is where his brother studies. Now, that is something I would just not dismiss as a coincidence (though it has been two out of two times now). May be a conspiracy? Wait until the next episode unfurls, where else, but at DCE (Delhi College of Engineering)??? (That's where R had his Engineering degree from!!!)

Sticky when hot

For quite some time now, we had known summer was back. But the reality struck hard on our faces when this happened. We were having our routine coffee break (the only peculiar fact being that we usually work between breaks rather than the other way round!!!) When our friend 'G' lifted the coffee-pan off the heat-pad, something more than just the pan came off alongwith.
Seems that the pad got quite worked up, and couldn't stand the heat. Quite surprising, coz we had been using it day in and day out with hotter stuff (I mean the temperature here, guys). May be the summer caught up with the poor pad. Thought summers were sticky only in India. Surely not in Germany, though!!!