OVERVIEW

The US-based Shankar family made an extended trip to India in January 2008. The visits included Goa, Jaisalmer, Jaipur, Udaipur, Mumbai, Bangalore, Nagarhole Tiger Reserve, Delhi and Agra. Our schedules were quite disparate. And to handle the disparate schedules, we have much to thank my brothers, Vijay, Balu and Kittu who made so many special trips back and forth from the airport.

I have a special bond with my brothers who are just a joy to be around with. They dress right, have the correct social skills and, damn, they are good looking for their age! We are of course genuine Baby Boomers, born before and after Indian Independence (1947). Balu, the oldest, looks the youngest with a full head of salt and pepper hair, and no bald spots. Vijay, the youngest, is the most dashing and looks like an Admiral that he is, full white beard and hair. He is very erudite, very well rounded and can charm the socks of most folks. We grew up together and in his honor I named our son Vijay. The Vijays are shown left. However, do not pick an argument with Vijay the Elder if you are on the opposing side... he was a good debater in school. Kittu is a complete social animal and will embrace anybody within reach. All of them are a lot more social than I am. All have military background and have accomplished much in their lives. They do have war stories because all of them have participated in wars. I mean with death often starting in their face. Balu as teen was responsible for ferrying many Indian POWs from the China-India border war in 1962. In 1965 war against Pakistan, both Balu and Kittu saw action. And then in 1971 for the liberation of Bangaladesh, all three were engaged. You can imagine the trauma my poor mother went through. When your life is on the line, I suppose you have a different perspective. Balu has doubly seen death stare at his face. More on that later. Me? I am just a civilian who has never operated even a toy gun. I was considered the "academically gifted", having gained admission to prestigious college-- the Indian Institute of Technology, or IIT for short. As much as that experience had been good to me-- cannot beat the tuition fee-- I think the schooling from the real world my brothers received probably was different and more compelling.

Vijay conducted 18 roundtrips to the Delhi airport to meet and send us off to various destinations during the time we were in Delhi; Balu made 4 (oops, sorry 8) to Bangalore airport. This count does not include the countless other expeditions we made in visiting various places. Many friends, relatives welcomed us at every step.

INDIA ALWAYS ON ITS TERMS

Every day was an event. Something new, something wondrous. India is truly an amazing one-of-a-kind country with the mix of modernism and traditionality and .. zaniness. Contrasts are everywhere. Wild consumerism, gleaming malls stand side by side with extreme poverty. Rolex watches, Dolce and Gabana. DKNY. Versace. Everything is there. And outside scenes of a beautiful beggar mother with her child just simply tears your heart. Rows and rows of shiny new cars jostle side by side with bullock carts,
scooter and motor bikes. Each within spitting distance. And spit they do.
Resources are stretched and one of the most interesting and surprisingly satisfying experience was having a hot-water bath. No showers or tubs. Just a plastic bucket where the hot water can be filled. The 5 or 10 scoops of warm water seems so much more refreshing. Cars are never 1 or at most 2 per person like we see in the West. A small compact car usually holds a 4 to 5 people. And Indian people are not necessarily puny.


Speaking of cars.. while I was in Delhi a company had a grand opening for the Tata Nano car for , get this, $2500. Supposed to seat 5, has most of the basic stuff. This is comparable to the many auto-rickshaws and could revolutionize what one would see on roads. That would mean perhaps 300 million plus autos on the road. Hopefully it will bring in more traffic discipline. Perhaps they should simultaneously address the climate change problem by equipping them with hybrid technology or even fully electric. But that would require a greater use of renewable energy to make the switch worthwhile. Should, could and would. Climate change solutions require stark choices.

My daughter Rani and three of her US-based friends had a more detailed itinerary that included good parts of Rajasthan-- Udaipur, Jaipur and Jaisalmer. The picture at the left shows them at the Lake Palace at Udaipur. Rajasthan is the home of the erstwhile Maharajas & Maharanis who held sway over Indian populace during the British days. Also the British saw them as extremely malleable and were good sounding boards and accomplices for them. Now the heirs are struggling to stay afloat and many have been converted to tourist resorts.

FOOD

Eateries in India are special. There is no entity called "Indian food". In the West, it is usually the very greasy, chicken vindaloo, tandoori chicken that are the usual manifestations. But when in India, taste the various regional fares. Fish Patra, consists of white fish coated with herbs and rice and steamed in a banana leaf. Somewhat like a sushi. It first originated among Parsees-- Zorastrians who fled Iran. In the South try out the Dosas, Idlis-- made of steam rice and urad dal-- which is also healthy to boot. Include some sambar or coconut chutney and mollakhpuddi (affectionately known as "gunpowder", because of its explosive taste). Or if you are in Punjab or Uttar Pradesh a simple Dal and Subzi dish (lentil and vegetables) with freshly made phulkas (Indian bread) with dahi (yogurt) is delightful and simple. With one of the many Indian wines (my favorite: Grove La Reserve Cabernet/Shiraz) and helping of Gajjar Halwa ( Carrot sweet dish).. yum. I do not recommend eating in anything but a clean restaurant. Read the review first. Also, NEVER drink open water but insist on bottled water (Bisleri & Kinsley are well known brands along with Evian, Aquafina, etc.) This blog attempts to capture this unique nature that is India from my own perspective: the fastest growing economy, fastest growth of cars on the road even while the roads are being constructed at a breakneck pace. I may have a bias-- being one of India's Midnight Child, born during year of its partition. In 1947 when I was born, life expectancy (38 years) , GDP ($40), production capacity (non existent) , roads, all were pitiably low. To see India today-- an economic powerhouse-- makes this Child very proud and ready to accept India warts and all.

And, oh yes, there were celebrity spottings. Madonna wandering in Jaipur and Mumbai; George Clooney at the Beating of the Retreat in New Delhi ; Sarkosy (minus Carla) in Delhi. He missed his missus as well as the morning jog at Lodhi Garden. Rumor had it that he was too despondent and/or jet lagged. That kept the secret service fuming since they arrived at 4 am that morning. He also made an afternoon dash to the Taj Mahal and of course the security had to do a complete sweep. He was back in Delhi in time for a State Dinner.





ARUN VEEJ RANI

VIJAY BALU RUDY

BENGALURU aka BANGALORE

We visited Bangalore Jan 18-25. This is where India's economic miracle started, with outsourcing at the leading edge. That outsourcing occurred was due to the confluence of cheap bandwidth that suddenly became available in the early 1990s and entrepreneurial zeal of a few. Today India's Silicon Valley has gone far beyond its moorings and encapsulates all the right .. and wrong things about a burgeoning area. Think Palo Alto merging with New York city's grittiest street and you get the area around MG Road and Brigade Road in Bangalore. Sprinkle in 5.3 million people. In the continuing trend toward Indianizing city names, Bangalore is Bengaluru . It has become more chaotic, more difficult to navigate. It has 2.8 million vehicles of which 2 .0 million are two-wheeled affairs. As usual the roads are populated with everything under the sun. There is a pristine Electronic City that is a far cry from the chaos outside.

There were to me a surprising number of religions and I still marvel at the easy way they coexist. My nephew Arun, Veej and I were walking along the streets when we were accosted by two Korean girls who invited us to the church gathering down the street. They were nonplussed that my son was a Catholic, my nephew and I Hindus. Sometimes I feel India can be the beacon of tolerance in the world. My sister in law, Padmini, has among the pantheon of Gods she prays to in her kitchen Baby Jesus. It dawned on me that Madonna and Baby Jesus have a striking coherence to Lord Krishna and Devaki, his mother. There have been several parallels drawn between the pairs.
My brother Balu lives in Bangalore and he has shown what sheer dint of courage and stick-to-it-iveness can do. He came back from so many medical problems from the car accident that claimed my Dad's life in 1996 (Balu was driving). After 14 surgeries, as many near death experiences, and losing a leg he is still the happy go lucky guy I know from his youth, always willing and able to help. His company CBAS -- an aviation service company-- has become a stunning hit ever since he started it just after his accident. I wish I could get him to be a subject of a business case study. As a kid he was not known for sterling academics, but Balu has lived the adage Bill Gates often quotes:" I was a C student and had the students who had As and Bs working for me". There is more than a grain of truth in this since social skills & networking -- needed for corporate success-- are more important than rote learning, common in India (surprisingly, Japan wants to follow this model). What is fascinating to me is that while India has made superb progress due to its techie brilliance, it is the all-round skills that people like Balu have that ultimately is more important.

He was waiting for us at the airport. Padmini and Arun-- his son-- were as usual very helpful and Vijay had a person his age he could hang out with. Arun took receipt of a new car --a Maruti Swift. Pretty neat. And a chick magnet.

What stands out in Bengaluru? It must be the great head massage and all body massage we received. For a little more than $1, the barber will provide a full head and shoulder message.For the more adventurous, there is Ayush which includes a 1 hour full body massage with oil and bath with shikkai. I never enjoyed oil baths as a young boy, but this was different. You come out as you are floating in air. That felt sooooooooo good....

I also discovered that the best thing to do for calling is to buy yourself an Indian cellphone and a SIM card that can be filled with usage for 1-, 3- and 6-months. At Rs 1/min (2.5 c) it is the best buy. A brand new Nokia phone for less than $30. But you have to live with so much automated telemarketing coming at you in several Indian languages.

My brother Kittu in Harihar, his wife Ratna and daughter, Minnie, visited us two separate days. My sister Chuchi and her hubby Mahadevan made a trip from Chennai aka Madras to be with us for 1 day. Really feel special in India.

GOA

Goa is a coastal city with rich colonial heritage with the Portuguese and before several Arab traders. It is very laid back. More laid back than the rest of India. It is a great hangout for Israeli, Eastern and Western European and American vacationers for the sun and doing it on the cheap. (Remember the opening scene from "The Bourne Ultimatum"?)


I met Rani and her friend Rachel when they came back from Rajasthan January 12. We stayed at the Goa Marriott which is a sybarite's paradise located on Miramar Beach. More food than necessary. Pricey. Good service. And the perfect weather made it seem like we are in heaven. This was 3 days and 2 nights of utter perfection. All we did was chilled. The place had all the creature comforts. We made some slight noise about going to Panjim but that was quickly overruled. Poor Rachel made the journey anyway. The hotel has the best sauna and whirlpool I have seen in Marriotts world wide. Its fitness room leaves much to be desired. And they dont allow photographs in there. I wonder why. Rachel is an Indophile. Having never visited India but having dated an Indian (TamBram doctor) she was very much at ease with the Indian milieu and easily adjusted to the different culture.


The view from my hotel window. Every morning as the day dawned we could see many trawlers hauling ore up the Mandavi river (seen on the left). Swimming is hazardous because the river is pretty polluted: one of the downers. But it was so peaceful to look outside early AM. And of course we could look forward to a breakfast that was simply so filling.





On the last night at Goa we went to a restaurant called "Mum's Kitchen" which was walking distance from the hotel. The food was excellent. The Goanese fish is simply a must-do dish. We met an interesting pair from the US who were working for a US-based company in Pune. They were also completely taken by Goa but being only a few hundred kilometers away working for a US-based outsourcing company. I am sure they will be back.

NAGARHOLE TIGER RESERVE

India has many game sanctuaries and is the only country where both tigers and lions can be found as well as leopards. The most interesting area growing up in India to me was the tiger hill country in the South-- the states of Karnataka, Tamil Nadu. Coorg has a special hold because of the lore of man-eating big cats that I read voraciously as a kid. The cats are more threatened by encroaching humans who have steadily reduced their territory. A typical tiger requires more than 10 square miles and that of course is difficult in these modern times.

My son Vijay and I made a foray into Nagarhole from Bangalore, 250 kms away on Jan 22 & 23. While these distances are short by US standards, the Indian traffic conditions and jet lag made this longer and more stressful. But we ended up in a lovely Home Stay abode which was absolutely fantastic. We watched the Australian Open tennis semis on the small TV in the guest house we stayed in. Our driver Mustaffa-- was from Coorg, but was a Tamil-speaking Keralite. Nice fellow. My son was kind of surprised that I can converse in all these languages. Little did he know that I was struggling to form sentences.

In the evening we went to the forest. Our driver, Johnson, a Tamil, always stole a glance on the side view mirror to see that his hair was arrayed right. (BTW: Traffic is on the left and the steering wheel is on the right. Makes it EVEN MORE difficult to drive in India.)

It was kind of disturbing since I thought he needed to be more prepared in the jungle. Like stepping on the accelerator if a disgruntled animal were to take exception at starers. We got into the reserve at 4:00 PM. One thing about a jungle: if you do not have a compass you are pretty well lost. Fortunately, we had a guide and we tried and tried to see if we could spot a tiger. They are of course very elusive and with the noise that a jeep makes I was quite confident we will not see any. But we did come across a mother elephant and her calf that caused me more concern since I knew that mothers are more protective and she could have easily outrun the jeep. I figured that she may be used to gawking. We headed back at around 6:00 PM.

Our hosts -- Deepak and Anuradha Carambiah-- invited us for a splendid dinner consisting of chicken curry, chicken biryani, puttu-- a Coorg dish, dhal, chappati, rice, potatoes. It was quite filling and we wisely declined the dessert. Deepak revealed the sorry state of affairs in Coorg, where there was a high degree of alcoholism (they both lost their respective fathers to alcohol consumption) because of sheer boredom where work ceased after 10 AM at the coffee plantation. He provided a rich vein of stories on the Coorgs, their hold on the land and their general failure to convince the State to help repair the roads. My brother Vijay gave me a book titled the "Hills of Angheri" written by one of our high school classmates, a Coorg, who gave up a promising career in medicine to be with her folks. She was the class cutie if I remember right. Our host had especially harsh words on the Coorgs who served with the Central government and who he claimed gave the farm away. I could have heard the same complaint in the US about State rights being taken aways by the Big Bad Feds, The next day as we were driving back a drunken Coorg almost walked on to our speeding car and if not for Mustaffa's quick evasive maneuvers, it would have been a nasty accident.

We left Coorg somewhat despondent that we could not spend enough time. But the sadness had also to do with my own rich and vivid memories as a child of the Coorg I had never visited. The maneating tiger and leopard stories, my own experience of hearing tiger roars from the hills of Ooty when we were living in Coimbatore. Coorg is a good representation of the globalization that has upset the traditional coffee plantation industry while the best and brightest have fled to greener pastures in Bangalore.

AGRA

This was supposed to be a must-do trip since we were close to Delhi and my son Vijay had never visited. In retrospect it was a .. disaster. This trip was at the end of our stay and perhaps was one trip too many. We made some bad decisions: decided to drive from Delhi, a pretty arduous trip that takes 4+ hours. The better option would have been to take the fast train. The second bad decision was driving through Agra. It is a nightmare. The roads are non existent, every type of propelled means of transportation is on this non-existent thoroughfare. And then you have the dirt, the chaos. The short distance to the hotel was a mind-bending 90-minute trip. Having reached the hotel, neither Vijay and I were keen to see the Taj and the reassuring words of the hotel staff (Saritha) recommended that we do the Agra Fort and then see the Taj Mahal by sunrise the next day.

The Agra Fort was where Shah Jehan was imprisoned by Aurangzeb, his son, who carried a hostile takeover of the Moghul Empire. Aurangzeb was to be the last in line and the British put their stamp firmly on India after his defeat in the late 18th century. Mr A was a tyrant if there was one, the Saddam Hussein of that era. Not only had he imprisoned his father, but he methodically killed all his half brothers. When Shah Jehan was imprisoned at the Agra Fort, he made sure that he did not have the satisfaction of looking at his beloved Taj Mahal by gouging his eyes out. The Fort itself is beautiful, with large fountain areas and green grass. The view of Taj Mahal can be slightly discerned in the photograph.

The night Vijay got up and was retching and had the bad case of stomach upset. He looked very sick and I was worried that it could be more serious. We called off the sunrise tour of the Taj and just headed back to Delhi. The journey back was touchy, since he was not confident that he would not have to stop and go to the bathroom. After we arrived in Delhi he had a good night sleep and was fortified the next morning with Neer Dosa prepared by Zilla Singh, the cook. It was a relief that it was not anything more serious. More than likely he picked it up either at the hotel we were staying or a Pizza Hut we stopped along the way. But that day we did the tour at Connaught Place and I was relieved that he was well enough to attend the Beating of the Retreat Ceremony later in the night.

DELHI

Delhi was where I grew up and went to school and college in the 1960s. I remembered boarding the DTU bus at Pusa Road , Number 6 to Secretriate (as the Central Secretariat was pronounced by the bus conductor) and switching buses to my high school. Later when I was in college, I remebered boarding the Number 46 bus to Munir ka, the last stop about 1 mile short of the college I attended. Over the years Delhi has changed tremendously. We were in Delhi from Jan 10-12, and again from Jan 13-16 and yet again from Jan 25-30. What was a sleepy town is now a bustling cosmopolitan city with the Delhi Metro standing out as a shining example of what mass transit promises. On the road, you see 3 lanes of traffic to be a full 6 to 7 lanes. Switching lanes, negotiating a right turn, or even merging into incoming traffic is something to behold. And where else can you see a pair of geese in the rear of a Maruti, or a full grown buffalo at the back of a truck, or 10+ people (no kidding) in an autorickshaw meant to hold a driver and 2 passengers. I saw very little evidence of road rage, even though there are several excuses to vent. Perhaps another decade of this hellish driving experience may embolden them. Besides the driver' throat is sometimes just an arms length away.

It is a little bit daunting to be on the road in India; however, the consolation is that speeds are not very high, EXCEPT on the highways. That this is dangerous can be seen in the number of maimed stray dogs that dot the urban landscape. Not many road kills.


Delhi's monuments are its pride and are a testimony to the various conquerors who invaded India since the 12th century. Purana Qila, Nizammuddin's Tomb, Safdarjang Monument, Qutab Minar and Lodhi Gardens are some. The tombs span over 7 centuries and leave a strong cultural imprint. The Muslim empires on the whole set the style for the British-- the last set of rulers-- on the importance of allowing at least cursory blending of the Hindu culture. The British who came in the late 18th century masterly adopted the divide and rule strategy to maximize their dominance. That they could rule India with a fleet of administrators who could fit into Yankee Stadium just shows what power of persuasion they must have possessed. Many decades later we were to learn that their hurried departures from their former colonies continue to fester in border disputes (India, Pakistan, China, Iraq, Sudan, et. al.)

The most beautifully done Muslim monuments are the remnants of the Lodhi dynasty from the 15th century which has been transformed to a lovely garden called Lodhi Gardens. It is a jogging place, beautiful scenery, parrots galore. And stray dogs. I was later to learn that these dogs are neutered and tranquilized and collared. Left is a picture of one of tombs with Rani in front. Any morning you can see the glitterati and literati and common folk walking, jogging in the absolutely breathtaking environment. French Premier Nicola Sarkozy was scheduled to come for a morning jog one day at the grounds but backed out because of jet lag (and perhaps missing his main squeeze, Carla Bruni. The newspapers voiced the complaints of unidentified security folks who were miffed to have secured the grounds at 4 am for the event, not to talk of the several morning walkers/joggers who were shepherded to other trails and paths.




My younger brother Vijay lives in the heart of Central Delhi, where the architecture of the house dates to Edwin Lutyen, with tall ceilings (with places on the top for manually operated fans for the brutal summers by Punkah Wallas). Lutyen went for the grand design and a large garden was part of that to be maintained by a retinue of servants of the Raj to host their grand parties. Of course today it requires a lot of oversight. Vijay had a number of get-togethers during the short time we were there.

Delhi winters can be cold but this season was exceptionally cold and the Lutyen-designed building only seemed to enhance the chill. Saurabh Srivastava my very good friend from the US was visiting at the same time. He had made a trip to Dehra Dun where he stayed with many of his relatives. His aging and sick Aunt chose that moment to pass away and he was taken by the experience.







We also had a couple of friends Amitava SenGupta from our High School in Delhi, and from IIT Delhi, Sam Anand and Vijay Mehra (Jan 16). It was a great night, the best fish I have ever tasted (Fish Patra) which is steamed with spices, rice in a banana leaf. As usual, my brother and Girija are great hosts and the treats kept on coming. Somebody had to call the dogs-- yes, there were two dalmations-- to relieve the humans from gratuitous gluttony. But oh.. the fish.




The last two days we saw the Republic Day parade and the Beating of the Retreat a ceremony that brings a curtain around the Republic Day celebrations. The pageantry is unmatched. Only India does it right. Camel brigades where the animals do not bend their neck while they march past. The regal horses that accompany the President to the dais; the various regiments. So colorful. But overall the parade was a disappointment.




The Beating of the Retreat was a different affair. Nicely done. The tableau on Vijay Chowk with Lutyen-designed Rashtrapathi Bhavan in the background is impressive . I was teary eyed and goosebumped when the band-- all 300+ of them-- played the evocative Indian tune सारे जहाँ से अच्छा हिंदुस्तान हमारा (My country, India, is the best in the whole wide world). I never thought much of the song when I was a kid when I remembered watching as a kid my father commanding a march past. But the moment seemed to bring all my emotions up front. The bagpipes added a sonorous, haunting quality to the ensemble. And the song resonated and faded as the band retreated up Raisina Hill to close the ceremony in gathering dusk; the sounds echoing off the massive sandstone structures. Two camels who could be seen in silhouette were standing with the same ramrod stiff neck in the symmetrical structures bordering Vijay Chowk. India does ceremonies right and I can well imagine why the British Empire saw India as very special. The stiff wind and cold added to the entire ambiance of the event. And of course as mentioned previously we had George Clooney in the crowd as the UN Special Ambassador for Peace. Nice work, if you can get it.


We made our way back along Rajpath back to my brother's abode and my mind was full of memories. Back in the late 1950s we lived not far from Rajpath at an Officers Mess -- since razed down. The entire house consisted of 2 bedrooms, a kitchen, 1 bathroom (1 bathroom??) and a "drawing" room, a total of perhaps 1500 sq.ft. The drawing room was where we gathered around a "Bush" short-wave radio listening to the exotic sounds of Radio Ceylon and Vividh Bharathi that played Bollywood songs then dominated by just two singers (Mohd. Rafi and Lata Mangeshkar). It housed 5 kids, my parents, our grandmother and our surly dog, Lassie. How we lived in that small space probably rates a story in itself. I was reminiscing about the walk along Rajpath and how we would steal jamuns- a grape-like fruit-- at great risk of life and limb if a mali (gardener) with his lathi (staff) spotted you. We could of course outrun him; however, his advantage was the surprise attack where he would descend from God knows where.

We were driving back to Vijay's Lutyen-designed house which has two armed guards, several helpers, and a house big enough to accommodate 10 times the house we had in the 1950s. The TV receives as many cable channels in the West, you can get on the Internet at two separate locations in the house. You can retire if you wish to a fully stocked bar at the back overlooking the well-appointed garden.


But the myriad sights and sounds-- chirping of so many birds, the smoky air Delhi assumes during twilight an intoxicating mixture of the smell of firewood and cool crisp air, kites constantly soaring above looking for their evening meal below, squawking of so many parrots, the eerie, piercing cry of the peacock in the rear garden and the occasional rhesus monkey bounding past-- reminded me more strongly of the Delhi of my youth.