My Morning Coffee – The Eternal Wait, Part 3

The Not so Good Experiences

The Cooking Comedies

Mention food and my eyes will light up like a hungry puppy!!! I have always been the quintessential foodie and no one knows it better than my mom. My weekly trips with my Bro to Bakya Fast Foods in West Mambalam, Chennai are the only memories that haunt me when I see a full Cauliflower here. If you are wondering about the link between those two, here is my confession… I would do anything for a Full plate of Gobi Manchurian (Cauliflower Fried in Spicy sauce) and Fried Rice in Melbourne!!!

Cooking is truly an art…The Murphy’s Law (If anything can go wrong, it will.) is perfectly applicable to novices like me and I take solace from the fact that my other friends here are no better cooks either. My best friend Rabiya (whom I consider as my elder sister here) would strongly protest it and shout me down for being such an ungrateful creature after polishing off her entire vessel of yummy Chole masala (a superb Indian curry), but the fact is her spilling skills would beat my cooking skills hands down any day…Gulp..I am sorry Rabiya… With this, I could end my hopes of getting a good dinner at her place!!!

Food has always been sentimental to me…It defines my moods and always cheers me up when I am sad…For 22 years, I had tasted some of the best vegetarian food in my life at my home and the Indian cities which I lived. I had enjoyed the Vada Paav and Double Roti of Bombay as equally as the Masala Dosa and Sambar vada of Chennai. My loving mom had painstakingly written plenty of recipes in my company notepad when I left for Melbourne. That was her parting gift. For the 1^st time, I realized that the company notepad had been put to good use; since it was primarily used for taking nonsensical notes at company meetings and drawing the silliest of cartoons….I will eat whatever food made by me as I live by the mantra called “adjust”. But I was hit by the fact that it took 2 painstaking hours to make 5 “eatable” chapattis and some dhal and I gobbled them up with such ease within a space of 15 minutes. I was flooded with memories of my mom making 30 chapattis and some superb side dish for four of us and how happily we would polish them off within half an hour and leave the place without uttering a simple word of thanks…We thought it was her duty to cook! Huh!!! This phase of my life will teach me the value of simple home food and never in my life again will I comment on its improvisation…that’s a promise to my mom. Sorry folks, got a bit sentimental here….

Generation Y – The Troublemakers

Melbourne’s youth leave a disappointing picture of themselves on Friday nights. The age group from 14 to 20 are the most troublesome as they cause havoc all over the place during the weekends. Their scant respect for other cultures is a direct tangent to the older generation. The worst part would be to see some Indian youngsters getting involved into the act and insult our culture. The funniest thing about some Indians, who would have just settled here about a year ago or so, would be their accent. It is perfectly fine if it comes naturally, but some people put on a funny acquired accent just for the heck of it to show off around other Indians. This really sucks…I mean, there is really no need for a stupid accent if you are able to perfectly convey what you want to say.

Close Encounters of the Third kind

This incident had left me shattered for a night or two as it had practically shaken my belief in the road safety of Melbourne. I was happy for the fact that pedestrians were given more preference here and had taken a new liking to the road crossing button kept at each signal. I have always followed the road crossing rules here to this day. It was a novel experience for me as I had hardly given a fart for those rules in India.

One night while I was crossing the road on a green light for pedestrians, a white car suddenly made a screeching turn and headed dead straight towards me. I was already dead tired that day completing my assignments and had very little sleep the previous night. My body froze for a fraction of a second and I realized that I had to jump hard backwards if I had any intentions of staying alive. I was also carrying my laptop that day along with some heavy books in my bag which made my jump all the more difficult. I let out a bloodcurdling scream, jumped backwards and lay spread-eagled on the road. The mad driver completed the screeching turn and sped off. People got down from their cars to help me recover from the shock. I felt my parts and went home literally shaking my head with total disbelief. It was a miracle that I was alive and I thanked God profusely for it. For the first time in my life, I realized how much unfinished business I would have left if things had gone the other way.

The Eternal Wait…

These three months have changed me for the better and I have begun to look things from a different perspective. Life has thrown a challenge in front of me and I will face it head on. I have realized that, it was this unique experience that I was searching for, to make me the man I intended to be.

John Shedds’s quote, “A ship in the harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.” kind of sums up my approach to life here.

I have made a promise to my mom that I will return a better person than I was. Her blessings will guide me through this phase and hopefully I will be able to live up to the promise. Khaled Hosseini’s famous line in The Kite Runner, “For you a thousand times over” will be ringing in my ears each day to remind me of the promise I made to her.

Till then, I will have to make do with my own morning coffee and desperately wait for the day my mom, or “someone else” will relieve me of this morning misery. Thus, the eternal wait for my favorite morning coffee will continue…

My Morning Coffee – The Eternal Wait, Part 2

The Good

Baby’s day out!!

My friend had called me on the third day to inform that her senior was offering to show us around the city and would I like to join them. It was literally a baby’s day out that day!! The experience of boarding a Tram was thrilling enough to keep up an excited expression on my face as I was peering out through the windows having a great view of the city. Being an avid cricket fan, my joy knew no bounds when the tram passed through the MCG. It was the Mecca of Cricket for me. I happily gave poses alongside it and the Yarra River ran by peacefully at my side. The tall skyscrapers made me crane my neck to have a good view of them and I vowed to myself that one day I would work in one of these offices.

Huh!! So you are a veggie…

Food is a funny thing here. On my second day in Melbourne, I was hunting the area around my friend’s place for a cheapo hotel or an eatery but found none to my despair. At last I came across a KFC and went straight in. Now, I being a veggie made matters even worst. I asked the staff if they would have anything on their menu which would be remotely vegetarian. The blonde haired beauty was ecstatic and replied immediately that they had several varieties of Fish burgers. I was stumped and asked a proper clarification from her. She happily explained to me that fish is considered vegetarian in Australia. I felt like slapping my head, but nodded my head as if I had understood it and settled down for a stupid cold veggie salad which I could hardly eat a morsel….It seems that being a veggie is a crime in foreign countries where the maximum help they can do, is to give you a scornful look and a pathetic sigh…God help the poor veggies!!!

Hooray!!! I got my haircut…That was a close shave J

The Hunt

My first haircut in Melbourne is an experience which I would never forget in a lifetime. My hair was overgrown and I was almost on the verge of becoming an animal. Haircut is expensive here and I had almost exhausted my list of contacts by asking people here, the location of a cheap saloon. Not a saloon was offering less than 10$ in the vicinity. Fed up, I logged on to the internet to search for the cheapest saloon in Melbourne. I couldn’t stop laughing at myself that the day had dawned when Internet had to suggest a cheap place for a haircut in this city. Way back in Chennai, it used to be a matter of 40 bucks in an A/C saloon and you could find them in every area. Well, you could argue that the “alpa buddhi” (cheapskate mentality) has still not left me; but believe me it would be really heartburning to pay the equivalent of 400 Rs just for your stupid haircut. God answered my prayers and I hit on a saloon which offered hair “services” for free!!! I was overjoyed and immediately called that saloon to book an “appointment” to cut my hair.

The Experiment

All the way to my saloon I was wondering how they could provide a free service. I got my answer when I reached there. It was a hairdressing institute and there were students who would “learn” haircutting on your head!! Deeply disappointed, I was about to head back home, but then I realized that the students who would be learning this were girls. My heart skipped a beat and screamed “WOW!!!” I was prepared to become the Lab rat for once… I did a double check with the girl just before she tied the apron around my neck, enquiring again whether the whole cutting service is for free…She nodded slowly and gave me a smile which made me really blush…She might have as well guessed, ‘Ah! Another one of those cheapo students’… Then the chick, err…the student approached me with a pair of cutting scissors and a comb and began staring at my head for 2 minutes. I asked what the issue was and she replied that she was studying the “model” of my head and was devising a method to approach the cut. She sounded as if she was preparing me for a cardiac by-pass surgery dammit!!! A big lump formed in my throat and I said my prayers…

She began by gingerly taking each strand of my hair and cutting it as carefully as if it were some piece of tailoring silk. She would do all the damage on one side and call her superior for her “expert” opinion. God bless her superior as she knew how to cut the hair and hence, I meekly surrendered to this lunacy. Then it became a set pattern…this girl would show off her worst skills on my head and her superior would come and do the repair work… By the time they both were done with their fancy little game, it was 2 and half hours. The girl, deeply satisfied by her “work” showed me the mirror with a full 360 degree view and her 24 inch smile. To say that I was amazed would be an understatement; as I had already resigned to the worst fate possible to my head. At the end, I was definitely worth looking, though it was not my usual style way back in Chennai. I profusely thanked both, the student and the master for putting up such a good show and saving my ears and eyebrows, and in the process making me a human again!!!

I came out from the saloon and had a hearty laugh at myself and then headed straight to my University as my classes were scheduled in the evening. This was a first for me as in Chennai I headed straight back to home for a cleansing bath; otherwise all hell would be let loose by my mom. My Indian friends had all commented well on my haircut and were really jumping all over the place when I told them that an Aussie chick had cut my hair… Phew….So much for a haircut!!

What a Commitment….Gives me the goose bumps!!

Another thing which I admire here is the courtesy manners which the people have. Old people are very helpful and have a great sense of humor. The professionalism and dedication to follow the rules have left me ashamed many a time. The following incident had moved me lot and had increased my respect towards bus drivers to a whole new level. It was a late night when I and my friends had just alighted from the bus and were waiting at the signal for the crossing lights to turn green. After it was green, we crossed the road and it changed back to red again. The bus driver was confused as he had to take the bus to the other side of the road, but he couldn’t do so without getting a green for him. He then did a strange thing. He got down from the bus and fixed the signal so that the green lights would come again and he could drive the bus. There was no red light camera in the area to catch him jumping a signal, but then his commitment to the rules had us stumped and we were left pondering about the pathetic attitude of the bus drivers in Chennai where he would be ready to drive the bus over you at the slightest pretext.

There were plenty of other good experiences which have made my stay worthwhile here. May be I’ll discuss them specifically in my next blog …

My Morning Coffee – The Eternal Wait, Part 1

My Morning Coffee – The Eternal wait

Well, folks this is my first blog and I am kinda nervous to submit it…Its like those silly childlike experiences, when you can hardly comprehend the meaning of an “EXAM” at grade 3, and all you know is that your mom wants you to pass it!! J My good friend Rabiya had been prodding me on for quite some time to write a blog on my experiences in Melbourne and hence this piece would be a mixed bag of my experiences here.

Life has nearly been turned upside down in the past 3 months that I have spent my time here. Melbourne and its people have given life, an entirely new perspective and meaning. The things that had been taken for granted in India have turned back and given me a hard slap on my face. Some background of my “Chennai” life would help to put things in perspective.

It was going fine in Chennai, where I had the thankless job of a Software engineer in a reputed IT company with never ending deadlines. It’s another matter that I seriously wanted to amuse myself by getting into this job as I had done my Mechanical Engineering!!! The location of the office was great as I had to travel just 20 minutes on my motorbike to the office, whereas some of my lesser fortunate friends were the poor souls who caught the morning bus at 7.30 in a semi-drowsy state to reach the office by 9.

I am the kinda guy who has never lived a hostel life before. The maximum distance I travelled to and fro on a daily basis was to my Engineering College which took 40 minutes. Now it is no exception that Indian mothers can cook well!!! This had converted me into a professional foodie (the veggie band) and I rarely ate a dish at home without passing some generous comments on how this dish can be improved further. I remember the days at Andhra Mess in T Nagar, where I and my brother had hogged shamelessly such large quantities of ladyfinger poriyal (curry) in the unlimited meals section, that the poor waiter was dreading to cross by our area, fearing that we might ask another serving after already being served 4 times!!

Coffee was served to me in its best South-Indian form in a tumbler-dabara (kinda saucer) set, by my caring mother or my loving granny, immediately after 2 minutes of brushing my teeth in the morning. Being the first son had some privileges!! That coffee, along with “The Hindu” newspaper would set the tone for the entire day. My poor granny had the task of reminding me to take my company ID card and my handkerchief daily to the office. It’s because of her that I had rarely ever missed my swipe card at the office. On the days, I missed it, she would be staying at my Uncle’s place and then I would understand the reason of my forgetfulness. Mom would prepare a superb lunch and pack it in a hot-case, much to the envy of my colleagues. My eating quantity would be nearly the same as the combined intake of two of my female colleagues!! I could never understand to this day, how they manage to survive on such a diet and yet turn out the highest quality of work.

All this went fine until the day I decided that this job was not taking me towards what I had intended to become of myself after college. I applied to a few reputed Universities in Australia for my Masters and got an offer from a good one. So, I happily packed up my bags and bade a tearful farewell to my family and nervously sat on the flight to Melbourne.

I was received by two of my colleague’s friends and they helped me move into my friend’s place temporarily in the dead of the night. Those friends are helping me to this day, and all I have managed, is to get more than to give. I am indebted to them in every sense and I am waiting for the day to repay their kind favors with interest.

Melbourne is a beautiful and a well planned city with plenty of gardens. Every house is picture perfect and the roads nearly reflect your face. Well, at least that’s the first impression of a middle class Indian guy who hasn’t been abroad before!! My experiences in Melbourne can broadly be classified into the Good, and Not so good categories. Let us start with the good ones first….