Venice of the East

No....I dont have much to write in my blog today. Empty thoughts and nothing noteworthy has happened except that I bought my six year old a keyboard and by the amount of time that she has been spending on it since we got it home,it looks like she will turn into a Mozart overnight. 

I did make a visit with my mother and daughter yesterday to the largest water village in the world which is here in Brunei Darussalam in south east Asia. I didnt actually realise that this was worthy of noting down until I started thinking of what to write in the blog today and suddenly it struck me that its not often that one gets to visit a 1300 year old water village  and that too which happens to be the largest in the world.

Kampong means Village and Ayer means water in Malay. Its also known as Venice of the East for reasons which are self explanatory. 

Kampong Ayer lies over the Brunei river which happens to be the sole river running by the side of this small,rich but relatively unknown country. My first advise to anyone planning a visit to Kampong Ayer would be -Don't go by the look of the village. The first impression wont be the best with the murky water and rusted stilts on which quite a few dilapidated houses can be seen. It almost resembles a slum or ghetto. But a closer look reveals the basic amenities plus the luxuries which are desired by any person are available here over the stilts and footbridges.With a population of around 30,000 and having around 5 schools, a fire station, a petrol refilling station, 2 clinics,mosques, restaurants, cable tv, aircons and  .....almost any facility that you can think of, its probably one of the wonders of sustenance of man over water with over 29,140 meters of footboards connecting them all .  

We were told by our water taxi driver who double roled as our half hour tour guide, that the present Sultan of Brunei, Sultan Hassanal Bolkiah, who is well known for his richness and owns one of the largest fleet of cars ( 500 Rolls Royce and other cars worth 4 billion $ as per The Guinness Book of world records), had his humble upbringing in one of the houses here before he went on to become the richest King in the world. Another trivia which the water-taxi driver,Eddie, gave was - the Sultan's earning is around 90€ per minute and he has around 1178 rooms and 250+ bathrooms in his Istana i.e.Palace in Malay ...sulk sulk... Ah richness!...who wouldn't love to bask in it... Alas, God was too preoccupied with others while I stood waiting for my share of wealth... Lol ;) He also told us that the popular Saifuddin Mosque, which we cross so often while walking on the main roads of Brunei has its dome made of pure 24 karat gold!

The tour ended with payment,smiles, goodbyes and taking visiting card of Eddie, who promised to show the fireflies on a night tour besides taking us to watch the otters and crocodiles if we book his boat next time. So, look out for a post of another nat geo expedition of mine sooner or later :)

Cottage Number 24

Anthu is Ghost in Malay... Bhoot as we know it in Hindi.... The name sounds scary and evokes fear and interest in anyone who hears it. How much belief you have in them or fear their presence is an individual's choice and that I leave it to the reader to decide. So this post is about Anthus. 

Anthus are a strong belief in this part of the world and huge amounts of money is spent to keep them at bay and multiple buildings have been evacuated and razed down where their presence is suspected. 

The other day, we were having a coffee break in the hospital clinic premises.It was a lul day at the clinic, probably many being lazy or too healthy to visit a doctor. So the coffee session talk drifted into Anthus and peoples' experience with Anthus. That's when my boss, a jovial and pleasant man, came up with his brush with Anthu which was probably his only one but nevertheless strong enough to make him believe in their presence. So here goes what he had to narrate. 

It was annual holiday time and my boss planned to go to India and visit Goa with family this time around. It was the millenium time and a good reason to take a break at a cottage home in Goa. All went well and they checked into the place which belonged to the Taj group with luxury and comfort well taken care of.

After a nice lazy day spent with family, it was time for dinner and my boss being a vegetarian like me preferred to have dosas unlike the rest of the family which wanted something oriental. So it was decided to split ways and have each one satisfy their taste buds. After the dosas, boss thought it was time to get back to the family and preferred a short cut by the side of the swimming pool rather than go through a circuitous route.Time was around 10 pm and as he passed by the pool, he noticed a lady swimming. Not giving much thought, he continued his walk  when he suddenly heard a lady's voice -"Excuse me, could you tell me where cottage number 24 is?" . The same lady who was swimming a few seconds back was standing next to boss and asking him. Boss was wondering how could one get out of water so fast but anyway, not wanting to sound impolite he looked around and spotted cottage no 20,21,22, 23,25 but cottage 24 was prominently missing. Boss politely apologised for his inability to help and guided her to the reception which was not far from where they were standing, and walked back to his destination. 

The night porceeded as usual into its depth and gave way to the sun at dawn and a perfect day to relax in the sun and sand. Boss decided to get a haircut and proceed with his plans for the day. 

Spotting a salon closeby, he walked into the shop and was promptly draped for the haircut by the barber. What's a haircut without a chit chat with the barber, specially when the barber is more than willing for a conversation.  So, boss started with the usual chit chat and went on to ask why is there no cottage number 24 in the resort. The barber became pale and after a second's delay asked him if he met some lady by the pool asking for it?  Boss was zapped at the question and replied in the affirmative. 

Barber replied -  " So you are yet another person who met the lady who was in cottage number 24.She with her whole family drowned in the pool a few years back..there have been quite a few visitors who have had similar encounter"

The pregnant pause and dry mouths in our coffee room was broken by the entry of the nurse with some papers requiring Boss's attention. The gathering broke and we all got back to our work.No one had much to say about what they felt about the authenticity of the happening or if they believed in anthus but nevertheless everyone was left with a slight chill running down their spine for a little while....

I JUST REALISED NOW THAT I AM PENNING THIS ENCOUNTER ON 24th TOO....

Slip in one more pair for the doctor....

This time no Indian bashing but what I have is an anecdote which happened just 2 days back. I am a recent gym and dieting enthusiast. So far, I have managed to keep my enthusiasm in tune with my sincere attempt at work outs and the efforts have exhausted my stock of socks which bear the brunt of all the efforts. So, after a tiring work out on my way back, I thought of getting myself a pair of socks to replenish the worn out ones.  There is this shop "Gill Sports",which I have passed by a thousand times but made the effort of entering only now when the need arose.
 Walking in,spotting a bored Indian salesman, I went about asking in Hindi - white socks hain aapke paas? ( Do you have white socks for sale?).
 There was an instant glow like you see when you switch on a night lamp in a dark room on his face and pat came the reply - haan ji... 10$ ke teen hain... Aap batiye kitne chahiye? ( Sure we have, 3 for 10$ ... How many would you like to have? ) He could have just shown me where the socks were and not spoken a word since it was all written on the display board but I guess he didnt want to miss an opportunity to speak a few lines of his native language with a man from his own country. I scrutinised with the eyes of Sherlock Holmes, as if there were unknown holes or run in every sock in the shop which only my eyes could see ( sorry an Indian trait..  but true), and finally decided upon buying 2 pairs of white and one of black.
A last minute conversation while I made my payment made me ask, " Toh aap Punjab se hain?"( So are you from Punjab?) A glee of happiness at not just being identified and spoken by an Indian in Hindi but also being spotted rightly the state from where he came from,made him break into a quick conversation with me.
 He immediately replied in the unmitakable punjabi hindi accent " Haanji punjab se...aap engineer ke teacher? ( Yes sir from Punjab! Are you an engineer or a teacher?)
 I replied - main doctor hoon ,pehle Chandigarh mein tha ( I am a doctor, have worked in Chandigarh earlier)
Shopkeeper - achcha achcha... Kis cheez ke ji? ( ok ok ... Whats your speciality?)
Me- Main naak kaan gale ka doctor hoon ( I am an ENT Surgeon )
The next part is typical of anyone who meets a doctor
Shopkeeper- oh ho ....hamaare malik Gill saab ...unhe naak ki toh problem bdi rehti hai. (My shop owner Mr. Gill always has some nasal problem)
Trying to act good hearted and tuned over the years to replying to such conversations
" Leke aayiga ga kabhi, check kar lenge" ( Get him to the hospital sometime, will check him up )
I pay the 10$ and am about to walk off when he instructs quickly to another salesman. "Oye chhotey, ek aur daal de doc saab ke liye" ( hey friend, just slip in one more pair for the doctor ...)
Feeling elated, I walk off after thanking him...was it me being Indian, a doctor or the fact that I had worked in his state?...I wonder... but the smile doesnt go off my face for long...

Fifty shades but NOT grey!

Maybe my posts are becoming a criticism on the Indian habits....but then I am an Indian. Can't help- its a trait...we love to criticise and analyse and opine. Unfortunately, thats about all we contribute to anything constructively. I am one among them...
Anyway, let me get down to what I have chosen to write in this post.... I have observed and I am sure anyone who has been with an Indian would agree that we have a strange fascination with black hair or rather any colour as long as its not grey. Grey carries a "no entry" sign the moment it starts barging in on the hair... The first few which get noticed are mercilessly plucked off and then begins the long and never ending ordeal of painting the hair black,brown, red, mehendi, streaks.....any damn colour as long as its not grey.... Age is related to the colour of the hair and nothing more. Be it 30 or 80, poor or rich,no one will think twice about buying a godrej hair dye or kaali mehandi, as long as it keeps the hair, in most cases the scalp, sideburns,beard, moustache black.In many cases, the trickles and spillovers to adjacent areas are just an over enthusiastic effort to keep the grey at bay.We hunt the grey with the enthusiasm that Amercians hunted Osama from the caves and corners of Pakistan and Afghanisan.
In the same breath, I would like to stretch my thoughts to the talcum powder which is the Indian equivalent of  deodorants specially for the men downsouth. The forehead painted with ash and the torso with a sheet of talcum indicates that the person is now fresh and odourless. A thick mop of underarm hair stuffed and choked with a white padding of talcum offers every (south) indian male the confidence of smelling more fresh than a rose garden in full blossom. The vests without sleeves, a popular Indian at-home attire, is probably meant to just underline this concept in bold.Strangely, talcum powder enjoys little popularity outside and its domain is restricted to babies and kids alone. The indian men will surely be shaking their heads vigorously at this thought but sorry it is true.
 If only the Diors  and the Tommy Hilfigers had thought of powdering their fragrances, they would have enjoyed the luxury of being a household name in a billion more households in Asia. In case you have any questions, the answer is -"We are like this only..."

(P.S. - Just in case someone is still reading and wondering about me, I don't yet colour my hair though its speckled with a lion's share of white and my underarms do not have the luxury of having a bed of white talcum on them)

We don't smile :/

Let me greet everyone visiting my blog with a smile. Having spent a few years abroad for a while now, what I find in abundance outside India and majorly lacking in us as Indians in general,is the smile. We smirk, fume, laugh at others but anyone crossing our path, we think twice before smiling. We have to either know the person or need some genuine reason for the smile to break on our face. Smiling without a reason, even just for greeting, is rare in India. Let me admit it took me quite some time before I learnt the art and honed it. And then did I realise that it actually breaks ice to get a lot of things done. I can't recall how many times in my life have I ever smiled at anyone in a bus or train without an ulterior motive of getting my work done. May be I am mean or maybe its in my Indianness but having tried it myself, I can surely pass this "feel good" prescription.
When one gets a smile, it serves two purpose- 1. It makes one feel that his or her presence is pleasantly welcomed and 2. You dont have any awkward moments in case you need to really break into a conversation with someone.
Try it...pass a smile... C'monnnnn ...at least leave this blog with a smile on the face... :)

Why the donkey brays?

Not a name which a person would choose for his or her blog......well I chose it...for 2 reasons...First, I got tired of searching for an appropriate name for the blog as none that I could think of were available and secondly, when a donkey brays, no one likes but everyone notices...and thats what I wish to do here........talk incessantly and bray my thoughts and whether liked or not,I just hope to get noticed....... So, having justified the name of the blog.......today on, I will try to bray everyday......depending on how good or bad it sounds,hear it or walk away....