Right, now the photos: They aren't in the order I wanted for some reason, but anyway:

The view from the window of my 'pad' in Twickenham. The lonesome chap walking on the pavement all dressed in black is me.

The trainees with whom I had a drink after my last day at DWS. Claire is at left most. Rhys is 2nd from right and Kate just to the left of him. All three were part of the 2 teams for the Manches Cup. I cant remember the others' names. Rhys is incidentally the supplier of the Superman outfit.

This is me with the Falafel Man in Dubai. There's this nice little place on the corner of a pretty busy street. We asked him to click a photo of us and then asked him to pose. Reward? A complimentary falafel for each of us!

As with most of Italy, Milan too has its superstitious spots. This is a mosaic on the floor of a goat. Its in the Duomo market i.e. the old market next to the Milan Duomo (cathedral). The legend is that if you plant your heel on one of the goat's legs (now prominent due to the crater created) and spin around 360 degrees without falling - you will have wealth in your life. Am still reserving judgment.

This is me outside the Basilica of St. Mark (Santo Marco) in Venice. Venice really is a beautiful place. If you're ever in Italy regardless of where, make sure you do a day trip to there. Venice lives on tourism and is slowly being submerged by the water. No one knows how much longer the city will actually survive before going under entirely.

Bombay soaked and soggy

A bizarre day for several reasons:

One, I get up to go for TT selections, hoping that I haven't lost touch too much only to discover otherwise once I start playing. Two miserable matches later, with very few sparks to talk of, I am not a part of the GLC TT team anymore. There go 10 marks - I suppose next year I shall just have to earn it.

After another (the umpteenth) session of talking to one more person about big plans for my dearest (aka GLC), I am in one of those bemused moods, talking to a person who says he/she cannot accept mediocrity, has contacts all over the place, will definitely be able to get funds, take care of marketing and PR etc etc. To be honest, I've seen one too many of these people, and it just pisses me off that they respect this College so little. This may sound confusing, so I shall explain.

Every time someone comes up with a grandiose plan and talks about how much can be done here because Ambedkar and Tilak studied here, it shows how little they know about the real world and also how eager they are to take not only the college and its students, but more importantly, their reputation for a long roller coaster ride. I've stuck my neck out far too many times for plans like these (usually by people who have their own obviously-very-well hidden agendas), and this time round the enthusiastic idiot shall not remain one.

On to happier things and Bombay is seeing some of its worst flooding for a long time. I just got back from College a couple of hours back having spent about 90 minutes on the bike. All trains have been suspended and traffic is naturally choc-a-bloc everywhere. People are beginning to walk home even to places about 35-40 kms off College. Schools in Bombay have been called off for two days. No news of colleges. Oh well!

The ride back was not only eventful, but also fun. The bike had been in the rain for a while, so it took repeated starts all the way home because it was one, cold and two, wet. The traffic was bumper to bumper all the way from Walkeshwar to Churchgate on Marine Drive (which for non-Bombay'ites, means that almost the whole of Marine drive was blocked up). So I do what any enterprising biker would -

Note: Do you enjoy riding a bicycle / 2 wheeler or driving a car? I always have. I like the idea of power at your wrist / pedals. Have you ever ridden a motor vehicle on the pavement with pedestrians on it?

So, a whole chunk of us bikers decided that the footpath was the option. I can assure you that this is almost a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Its great fun to hurtle (relatively) down the footpath honking your horn and looking at pedestrians as if its their fault that they aren't getting out of your way!! Even more fun is the art of letting a mobike behind you overtake you so that you can use him just as Calvin uses his rubber ducky to test for sharks. I can tell you that 90 minutes of this nonsense and you're a pro at wet riding.

But this is, of course, not the end. As we head into the Chowpatty bottleneck after Mafatlal - we decide not to get off the pavement and continue on that 4 foot wide pavement bordering the park on Chowpatty! This is when the real fun starts. I am now the 4th or 5th bike in the convoy. As I move along I suddenly see this guy on the side wall clinging on for dear life and screaming his lungs out at something up ahead. Methinks biker no. 1. We finally get off a little before the Kulfi centre signal after biker no. 1 has endured the brunt of the attacks.

The next great bottleneck is Nana Chowk. The traffic cop is standing there bravely braving the rain and when we honk a bit saying let the bikers through - he stops us and lets a Sumo into the only remaining space in the junction!!! Cars cant move because there are too many which have broken down due to the flooding on exit roads. Wherever cars can move, they are prevented due to the multitudes of pedestrians standing their ground!

It ocassionally becomes a cyclical thing with no place for either man nor vehicle to manouvre. The Tardeo high road's water is nearly knee high and the bike finally gives up on me after having drunk too much from the wrong snout. After a bit of pushing I finally make it home safe, sound, soaked and soggy.

Anyway - dinner beckons - so I shall get back and do the needul with the quote and some photos.

Wi-Fi in absentia

My last blog from abroad this year. I’m sitting in the Dubai Duty Free trying to connect my damn laptop to the Wi-Fi here – no luck. It’s amazing how quickly my mood has changed. It’s suddenly back to the not-so-cheerful guy. The signs of India are already showing – I was just cut in the line waiting to order my tea. Really irritating. The only time this happened in the UK was when this American summer studentish looking kid just went up to the counter in the Sainsbury’s at Ox. Really weird – she was, of course, sent back. No such luck here – the Chinks manning the counter are as clueless as everyone else.

I can’t quite say that I’m not impressed by the Dubai terminal – it is undoubtedly large and modernish, but I just liked the Bahrain one a lot more. I’m trying very hard to get my brain round this Stetson problem – am doing some reading here before I got bored of looking through my huge library of conventions. It seems such an unimpressive international problem…I really have no idea how it’s going to be argued for 45 minutes. Only two issues really – jurisdiction and one merit issue. Really bizarre problem, unless I’m really not getting the hang of it. It may well be the latter.

Right – shall sign off now and get some work done before the flight.

“When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers, in the quiet of the railway station
Running scared”

The Boxer by Simon & Garfunkel

A 2nd goodbye

Right – I know I promised that my previous blog would be the last from this country, but two events occurred that have forced me to write another ‘one last one’.

First, the release of the new Harry Potter book. Blackwell’s, which is the bookstore of Oxford, opened its doors at 11pm for the first time ever (this is significant, seeing as Blackwell’s is a few hundred years old). Anna and I were walking past it on the way back from one of the social events referred to in my previous blog, and there were all these people, grown-ups and kids alike queuing up outside in all sorts of weird black outfits and pointy hats. One woman (presumably hired by Blackwell’s) had these two fire-eater type flames at the end of two sticks(?). And of course, how can one forget the Jap tourists taking photos.

The second thing I have to write about is the graduation ceremony I attended yesterday – Julia’s incidentally. Anna and I were invited as her two guests. It is simply awesome there in the Sheldonian and if I ever decide to come to Ox, a few sacrifices along the way and in Ox may well be worth it for this kind of graduation! The entire ceremony, save for the Vice-Chancellor’s short speech is in Latin and the academic gowns that are awarded are exquisite. The Vice-Chancellor incidentally made his entire custom speech at Manmohan Singh’s ceremony in Latin! (Now there’s something to strive for!!!)

Sitting in the VC’s chair yesterday was Linacre’s Principal, who is like a chaddi bum-chum of anna. During the College tea here (with some great pastries and other sugar filled items), he obviously mistook me for anna and made familiar PC (as opposed to just PC) whilst standing in the line to grab a cuppa and afterwards as well. But he seems a very nice guy – and I’m sure anna will thoroughly enjoy it should he be there to give away the D.Phil to anna. Anna took a liking to the D.Phil gowns too – I think that’s a good thing, seeing where he’s heading!

Ok – this remains a short blog – I have to go and pick up some groceries, food etc. Anna has his lab talk coming up, so the usual pre-test/exam type stress is on as he does his ppt. But he looks well in control. I leave for Heathrow early tomorrow morning, and am getting into Bombay nearly 24 hours later. And everyone thought air travel was quick – yeah rrrrrrrrrright.

Since this is an add-on/unofficial blog, I see no reason why it should be blessed with a quote!! Cheerio, pip-pip and all that… Goodbye to the motherland finally.

Goodbye to the UK

I’m at Regents Park. A rather uninteresting last day in London. As usual, I seem to have spent more time travelling than actually doing anything. On Anna and Julia’s advice, I went up to Camden Town. Pretty much the place for the weirdos of the world. “Weirdos of the world, converge” was the slogan I thought most appropriate. Spiked hair in various shades of green, pink and blue. Piercings in unimaginable parts of bodies. (NB: a nipple piercing is far more painful to the eye when observed in person as opposed to the idiot box).

After dropping the keys off to my flat and an insipid lunch, in more ways than one, I trudged to Camden and then to Regents Park, which is not as enjoyable as I remembered it being last year, primarily due to the fact that it is really hot today. My shirt is absolutely soaked.

This will probably be my last blog from this country – I’ve just lost interest in going through the motions more often than I have, especially when I lead a pretty boring life in essence. My saving grace this time has been the fruitfulness of the visit, not to mention the enjoyment at work and the longish hours put in. All of which I wish I could do again.

I have also decided that the best time of the year to visit the UK is May. Hot days are entirely absent, and the cold only hits if you don’t wear two layers. So no problem and the ideal weather for me. Maybe I shall make London my summer spot just as the Sahibs made the hillstations of North India theirs.

In other news, the BJP has attacked our PM for praising British colonial rule. Anna was at the speech he made at Oxford when accepting his D.Litt, but I haven’t discussed the issue with him. This is due to my fear of being called a dimwit, which is what I shall label the BJP leaders who have come out with this press statement. All Manmohan Singh said was that the British left behind a lot of good things in terms of infrastructure et al (in a nutshell, of course). Rediff published his acceptance speech. I am too lazy to find you the link, so go hunt if you are interested.

I’ve been sitting under this tree for less than 15 minutes typing this and eating Sainsbury’s brownies and I’m already bored. This is the problem with a holiday…sometimes there’s just not enough happening. I’ve also taken very few photos this time round. The reasoning? For one, I don’t feel like it and two, I’m pretty sure I’ll remember all the things I did (at least the memorable stuff) even 50 years down the line, so what for then? Sufficient has been taken to remind me that I was here and that’s more than enough for me.

That’s about it – now I am truly bored typing this and my head has begun to wander towards the ducks and crows at the end of every sentence.

This next bit has been added a couple of days later:

John sent me this link about some insanity in the world and the lenghts to which people are willing to go to in order to kill themselves and yet not call it suicide! Let us know what you think.

Anna and I went and watched Rigoletto, by Verdi - with some seriously good seats. The Welsh National Opera were performing. It was, in a word, fantastic. La Traviatta, also by Verdi, which I caught in Bombay with amma was not a patch on this for three reasons; one, Rigoletto has a far more interesting story, two, the seats were so good that you could actually catch the actors acting and not just hear them sing and three, the protagonist was an outstanding actor unlike La Traviatta, where one just pitied the guy for several reasons.

That's it from the UK. I have a couple more social events to attend with anna before I leave early on Monday morning. I can't exactly say I want to get back to the grind that is College...and we shall just leave it at that, why don't we?

Simon & Garfunkel had other ideas:

"Every day's an endless stream
Of cigarettes and magazines.
And each town looks the same to me, the movies and the factories
And every stranger's face I see reminds me that I long to be,
Homeward bound."

London cries and cries again

It's been an extraordinary week. My last week at work, a pre-Gleneagles conference, London winning the Olympics, London being bombed, my send off, a rugby test, a cricket match...could I ask for more?

First up, the pre-Gleneagles conference. It was organised by the Business Action for Africa set up under the Commission for Africa by the UK Govt. Basically the business side of things. I wont dwell very long on it...a quick sum-up: "I'll believe it when I see it".

Then London won the Olympics on the same day and the UK went crazy. I was just hitting my head wondering how many days, if not weeks, of these self-inflating headlines one would have to endure in this country. It was, of course, not to be.

We were in the middle of a session on 'Trade and Investment in Africa' (or something like that), with Paul Boateng, the UK High Commissioner to S.Africa, chairing. The speakers have spoken, the audience has yawned and then in the middle of a question from a Swiss based Nigerian about the need to channelise the potential of SME's in the continent, somebody goes upto Sir Paul and tells him something. And then, without warning, "Hurrah. Hurrah. The United Kingdom has won the Olympics! They're coming to London. Yipee. Pardon Paris." (all this at very high pitch and very loudly, with mad hand gestures). The Brits in the audience didn't stop clapping for five minutes with Sir Paul leading them all. The poor man asking the question had this incredulous look on his face as did the rest of the Africans there. He regained his composure before finishing his question and sitting down in a very dignified manner, despite the obvious lack of hospitality by the British hosts!!

The next day started terribly. The train I usually take was late, and it was cold and raining. So I decided to take the tube instead of the bus, as I usually do. Then at Embankment the Tube just froze, for about 15 minutes. I was really pissed, cos I was getting late for work. Then we heard some crap announcement about a power surge, so everyone just left the train. Before the whole crowd, including me, could even get to the stairs to get out, they announced that trains were back up and running, followed by another one denying that 2 minutes later. Everyone was just really pissed. Of course, better than a stampede had we been told what had actually happened!

The rest is, of course, history.

I had a great send-off the day after (Friday). First lunch with most of the group followed by an official goodbye with gifts et al. A beautiful pair of cuff links (my boss' idea - a cricket bat and ball). All I now need to do is get a shirt I can actually use them on. Then on my way to the station, I met Claire (the woman who cried Superman...refer precious blog) and went out for drinks with a few trainees. Excellent day - really felt good at the end of it - it'e been a while!!

Anna came down to London that evening. Primarily to help pack and lug everything back to Ox. We woke up early the next morning to go watch the third Lions test (the 2nd primary reason anna came down) in a pub down the road. Great stuff. I can only say that the atmosphere would have been a lot better had it been an evening game - with the beer flowing etc., but I was happy to avoid seeing grown men cry.
As a side-comment: the All Blacks thrashed the Lions. I think they are simply the superior team and despite some pressure from the Lions, which actually worked, they were never in any trouble.

2 months of living in Twickenham - at least I can go home head held high saying that I watched a rugby test in a pub there!!

Sunday saw me turn out for a Commonwealth Scholars XI side versus the Rhodes XI side. My side, of course, won - with me opening the bowling!! I shall say no more about this for fear of being deprived of sustainance in my few days left here!

That's all about my last week in London. One more blog coming up.

I have no quote for today...a bun maska for the person who provides the best one. (Judges decision is final. I am, incidentally, the judge.)

Keeping 'Paes' with the tennis

It's been a pretty tiring and eventful week. Lot of work, late evenings, and terrible food as a consequence. My social life hit an all time high this Thursday when I discovered the polite British equivalent of club-hopping. First I had drinks with Deutsche Bank, then I returned to a Banking group BBQ and drinks followed by an informal drinking session with a few trainees taking the Vacation Scheme bunch out. The terrible side of this is that I only had one beer as a sum total - not even one per..just one. What a waste of free alchohol!!

I did, however, meet the 'Woman who screamed Superman'. Her name as estimated by me, was not Elizabeth, but Claire - some photos are on their way over from her camera soon. I shall go through the lot and post a couple of the least embarrassing.

In other news - there has been much happening in sports - Federer will be playing Roddick in tomorrow's final. I watched the third set of the match between Roddick and Johansson and it was simply magnificent tennis. Brilliant to watch, and I was hoping that good old Thomas won that set, cos it would have ensured a nice 5 setter. Anyway, as I walked out of the Linacre Common Room at the end of the set, I knew that Roddick had the match in the 4th. But to his credit Tommy fought hard and Roddick won it in a tiebreak. Commendable.

Flashback - June 2004, People's Sunday, Centre Court. I'm watching Roger Federer take on Thomas Johansson. Everyone has, of course, heard of Tom, being a former Australian Open champ in 2000, i think. But if you asked me to describe his game, it was pedestrian at best. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed watching Federer's majestic game on display, but you want to see him pushed so that the best of him can be seen. Frankly, he looked as if he was walking a pram that afternoon. Cruising through in 3.

Johansson, to his credit, has picked up since then - I think he was just out of long term injury last year - and played some awesome tennis today. Anyone who can take Roddick's serve to Deuce in 4 straight games is special. As for the final, I'd like to see Federer winning in 5, although I secretly admit to myself that it is unlikely and that the best we'll probably see is him winning in 4. But I always love an upset in the later stages of a tournament.

In other tennis news, Todd Woodbridge announced his retirement after this Wimbledon. He is still in the mixed doubles Quarters and will take on Bhupathi and Pierce in the Semis should he get through. To put his career in perspective, the guy has won the Wimbledon doubles title 9 times. 6 with Mark Woodforde, his long time partner and 3 with Jonas Bjorkman who now plays alongside Max Mirnyi. Of the 6, 5 were consecutive between 1993 and 1997. The 3 with Bjorkman were also consecutive between 2002 and 2004. I don't care what you say, in a game as unpredictable as doubles where top seeds get dumped in the first round every alternate slam, that is A record! He is also a singles semi-finalist in 1997. So... It's sad to see him go, but I suppose everyone must call it a day at some point. I hope he gets another Wimbledon title before he goes.

As we discuss players, one of the guys I've watched for a long time comes to my mind - Leander Paes. He popped up in one of the many tennis conversations that anna and I have. A little about him and me. I first remember watching him as a 14 or 15 year-old taking on the big boys in Challenger tourneys at MSLTA. He was undoubtedly good. I can vividly recall a doubles match he was playing with Zeeshan Ali against the Russian duo. (One of them was Vladimir something and had a quite a fan following the two years he came. He won the singles the first year and got dumped early the next memorably flinging his racket from the baseline into the net during the match - luckily it hit no one). Anyway - Paes won that match (a final). He then went on to win the Juniors at Wimbledon in singles and became India's backbone at Davis Cup ties. Incidentally, other Indians to have won the Juniors at Wimbledon are the Krishans - both father and son. Ashok Amritraj and Jaideep Mukherjee have been losing finalists.

Then last year, on People's Sunday - we left Centre Court to watch him and David Rikl take on Vincent Spadea and some other chap. It was a shit showing. Poor play with a poor partner. I remember a point where Lee and Rikl were at the net and a passing shot was coming in. Paes says (mid-rally) "Cover your lines". Rikl doesn't. Passing shot goes down the lines on Rikl's forehand. Paes actually turned the other way i.e. not facing his partner and walked back to return serve the next point. Really bugged expression on his face.

All this is fine, cos it's a shit partner he's playing with. I was still hoping they'd get through and backing them. There was a huge Indian contingent to cheer as well.

Then one game where Paes was serving, he served a first fault. And as he tossed the ball up and some (definitely stupid) female screamed "Come on, Leander". He aborted serve, served a double fault, lost the next point and his serve. Everyone was at this point basically giving dirty looks in the direction from where the scream had come. Then as he walked to his chair, Paes looked to that part of the stands and said a caustic (and audible) "Thank You". Anna got it bang on when he said "I just lost all respect for the guy after that."

It got worse a couple of games later when a guy screamed "Come on Indians, cheer for Leander" (or something to the effect in Hinglish). There was a huge cheer, and Paes actually rolled his eyes and shook his head, the ungrateful _____. People would die to have over 100 people cheering for them on bloody Court 8 which is the 2nd worst court to play on after Court 7.

At the end of the match when autographs were being taken from Paes, anna asked me whether we should go and get one. I mumbled something about him having just lost etc and how it might not be fair to him. But frankly, I didn't want to get his autograph, or have him sign anything that I would keep. I didn't want to go have a chat with him even if I got a chance, something I would readily accepted before this match.

Anyway - that's enough about that. Suffice to say that Paes will not be shaking my hand at his (or my!) autobigraphy's signing (if and when they happen!)

Other news - none. The Lions got hammered this morning. Good on the All Blacks - still my fav. rugby team.

Otherwise everything is hunky dory with one week of work to go. More blogging then.

And sweeping up the jokers that he left behind
you'll find he did not leave you very much
not even laughter.
Like any dealer he was watching for the card that is so high and wild
he'll never need to deal another.
He was just some Joseph looking for a manger.

-'The Stranger Song' by Leonard Cohen