Bloglets: of love affairs and anniversaries!

Nov. 27^th marks 5 years since I packed my bags and left Mumbai for the big bad world of New York City. I had promised friends and family and especially the boy that it’s just an experiment for 6 months as I don’t want to let go of an opportunity to try something new. You see FOMO (fear of missing out) & YOLO (you only live once) have driven a lot of such random but wondrous decisions in my life! And if that was not yuppie enough for you, I got No DICE! 

It’s like they say, days and weeks are long in the passing but years go by quickly. I cannot even attempt to try to capture the essence of 5 years of my life here in one bloglet and but I will try to acknowledge it bit by bit and what’s left unsaid are stories that, long nights and bottles of wines are for.

First things first, I love New York city only because it’s the greatest city in the world, period. You’ll just have to take my word for it. For someone who’s always suffered from the immigrant’s conundrum, I have found New York City to be home. I have thrived in this city and connected with it despite being an outsider because everyone else here is an outsider too. It’s as much mine as anyone else’s and I own every bit of New York proudly, even the dark and dingy alleys near Port authority. I don’t think I am even an inch closer to being an American in the last 5 years but I feel and live like a New Yorker. Heck, I became one the day I packed my bags and left India. And on this day of thanksgiving, I am very thankful that I did! 

Despite this love affair, sometimes one has to leave home and go explore the world. Maybe some of us are probably not meant to be at one place, are probably wanderers by spirit or driven by the primal instinct of looking for better opportunities to feed themselves and their clan.  As I am getting close to the end of my stay here, it’s time for this Bihari to pack her Bihari roots, her New Yorker snoots and head to London in search of more of life’s adventure, meaning and je ne sais quoi!!

P.s. Nov 27th is also my engagement  anniversary & my elder brother's birthday ! What a glorious day !  

 To be continued ……..

In pursuit of pseudo intellectualism

It may be a sign of an early onset of mid-life crisis or after effect of some close friends moving away, physically or symbolically. However, I am convinced that I want to spend more time knowing about my friends and the world than just hanging out at a brunch or at a bar or a club (albeit it’s always a good time). This may mean some meaningful and some pretty awkward conversations but am willing to take the risk. 

Some friends including myself blamed it on my wannabe intellectual side and another friend blamed it on my regressed hippie side but that did not stop me from my pursuit. However, when I set up a blooming tea in a kettle and lit up incense sticks for my first soiree where I asked my friends to share a literary piece that had impacted them in life and how, I could not exactly fault these claims.

I am a firm believer in conversations, connections or moments that happen organically. However, in this day and age, distractions are one too many. Hence, sometimes an external stimulus might be needed, thus explaining the pseudo in my pursuit of intellectualism. Like regular extroverts and narcissists, we all love talking about ourselves but all that mumbo jumbo barely gives away what we really think of our lives, goals and the world unless prodded and no two friends can stake claims to a great friendship without knowing these things about each other. 

It turned out that these ideas were being resonated by almost everyone in my group here in New York in some shape or form and hence the proposal to occasionally dedicate some of our time to doing, reading, exploring or learning something new in lieu or in addition to alcohol and food was actually lapped up and quite a few promised to show up for the first soiree. An outcome I was pleasantly surprised and even bit skeptical about as I thought they'd collectively prank me and not show up. 

For the first turnout, we cracked enough jokes to get the awkwardness out of the way and the icebreaker game of identifying the lie out of three supposed facts a person told about himself or herself helped set the tone for more serious discussions. And so we shared; experiences about dealing with loss, accepting failure, falling in love, coping with inability to help others and yet supporting them or giving them hope, relationships with family members, learnings for life, exact nightly hour of raging sexual drive and you could see the body language warm with each conversation as we spent hours just sitting around, doing nothing but talking and sharing. 

Everyone was willing to share a part of their lives or emotions that they had carefully bundled away in some corner for fear of exposing themselves or just out of shyness or the fact that no one ever asked. Speaking of never asking, it slowly dawned on us that none of us knew what others did for a living, whether we loved or hated our jobs or were in love with our bosses. There would be nuggets of info here and there but not a single person had piecemealed all of them together. Hence, we decided to focus on knowing what we did for a living during the next meet up as an icebreaker quiz. Turns out, the only thing we were right about what others did for a living was – we truly had no frigging clue. 

So for the next soiree with a lovely view of the Empire state, we learnt about SaaS, how companies now prefer to build things in agile fashion than undertake long drawn projects, how central banks use Forex as a means to control inflation, how a portfolio manager can do insider trading, why we find certain restaurants at all the airports, how medical patents work, how PE funds are investing in software companies, why my Facebook feed shows ads for Neiman Marcus, who’s buying all the real estate and, how members moving away physically could actually be the best thing for a networking group.We also learnt how one of us could not take a pee break at work, another actually cold called CXOs for a living, a product manager wanted to become an entrepreneur, the one creating financial modules wanted to become a product manager, how two of us pretty much did the same exact thing for a living and how one of us would rather be baking than accounting.On an aside we also got to know about friends looking for career or job changes and how some of us could actually help make a few connections.  

We then dived into more intense and personal questions and some pretty goofy stuff but I would save that for another time. I would be naïve to think that these meetups would lead to some sort of spiritual nirvana or forge the deepest connections but am pretty sure, it will lead us to understand more about each other and more importantly, create a safe microcosm to be able to freely share our frustrations, weaknesses, happiness and life goals. As in many cases, it’s the side effects that may outweigh the immediate results. I have had more conversations about books we read, poetry we enjoy, life’s philosophies in last couple of months than probably even last few years. So, here's hoping that this continues as sustained enthusiasm is what separates the more evolved of our species from lesser mortals.

Ricercato, Osservato, Acquisto ! - Fashion and shopping tips learnt from my trip to Italy

My recent trip to Italy was fabulous in every way. However, before the trip, I was stressed about what to wear and pack given how well Italian women carry themselves. Hence ‘ricercato, osservato, acquisto ’ i.e. I researched, I observed, I shopped.  Here are some of the things I learnt the easy or the hard way -

• Take clothes that will not risk you being stopped at duomos or cathedrals; as a thumb rule maybe wear clothes that at least touch your knees and cover your shoulders. I had a near escape at Milan Duomo thanks to the girl in front of me wearing a shorter skirt!
• Carry a nice leather handbag; you are in the land of leather and iconic Italian fashion so you have no excuse
• Pearls go with almost everything that you can or should plan to wear
  
• Almost everyone in Italy wears cool glasses so feel free to wear your funkiest pair. No one even blinked at my otherwise in your face red D&G frames
• Don't tie your scarf on your head in Italy as it’s very French; unless you are French. Throw it stylishly across your shoulders or wrap it around your neck 
• Forget contacts, prescription sunglasses are the way to go especially if you plan to go into water
• Italian youngsters wear leather everywhere i.e. leather jackets paired with jeans, leggings and short skirts. Something to keep in mind if and when you plan to go out
• Don't try to compete with Italian women when it comes to walking on the cobbled streets in high heels; you've not been trained by birth 
• In fact, do not carry any shoe that you cannot walk in as there is no getting around walking in Italy. My RL loafers, Jimmy Choo wedges and low heeled ferragamo sandals worked out just fine for me and I never once used any other heels I carried. I had also researched how Hogan sneakers (owned by Tod’s group) are all the rage in Italy and saw it firsthand.
• Shopping in Italy is great. Period! It’s the land of iconic brands like Armani, Bvlgari, Dolce & Gabbana, Fendi, Gucci, Salvatore Ferragamo, Prada, Valentino....; so many that they can have their own alphabet.. so plan to splurge on a few of these brands if they catch your fancy! If you like outlet shopping, you may be able to find a few good deals but be ready to slum it out with other Asians !  
  
• Try and find some local designers as the delight of self-discovery elevates any shopping experience. I was not sold on more popular Italian brands like Liu Jo or Pinko which are as expensive as the Italian brands you may have heard of. Instead I discovered and adored the beautiful tops and dresses from Massimo Rebecchi, shoes from Vicini (same house that owns Zanotti) and silk scarves from Massimo Ravinale.
• While shopping for leather in Italy, no amount of research substitutes what you can deduce by look and feel. We looked into quite a few stores and distinctly found the difference in quality of leather and stitching in the shop that we eventually purchased from. Rest, time will tell!
  

• Italy is probably the only place where your grocery shopping can likely exceed any clothes, accessories or shoes purchase. The pastas, sauces, mushrooms, truffles, spices, wines, mushrooms…..I could go on.
• VAT refunds can make shopping worthwhile but expect to stand in long lines for VAT refund and preferably take cash as the return on credit card comes late and at an unfavorable exchange rate
• Bottomline, don't pack everything you want to as you will find something even more beautiful in Italy if you are willing to look for it! 

p.s.  Let me know if there's a better Italian translation available !

Icelandic Adventures - Northern Lights, Blue Lagoon and Reykjavík

I wrote the prelude (read my earlier blogpost here) to my Icelandic adventures almost a year ago and have since then helped plan trips to Iceland for several friends but never got around to the follow up blog posts. Clearly my writing has not caught up with my yapping. Well, it’s time to fix just that. I have not explored enough of this beautiful country to legitimize any authority on it but I can definitely claim to have the ability to pique your interest.

View of Reykjavík from top (Courtesy Closed Shutters)

Sometimes, it’s hard to instantly shake the grime and hustle of city life by just geographically transporting yourself to a new place. During every trip, there usually is a distinct moment or inflection point, when and where you become aware of being in a different paradigm. It could happen at the destination airport but with McDonalds, Burger King and Starbucks mushrooming the way they have been; it’s getting harder and harder to get that feeling right away. 

Even though the crunchy, cold and clean air threatened to burst our lungs and miles of nothingness tried to drive home the change of scenery, the light bulb did not go off till we sighted the faint visage of the northern lights right from the Reykjavík harbor on our first day. Faint green bands reminding us of the tricks up nature’s sleeves and at that glorious moment I became aware. Jumping like little kids, the boy and I hugged each other and ran to score the best seats on the tour bus that was to drive us into darkness and magic.

As mentioned in my earlier blog post, seeing Aurora Borealis aka Northern Lights was the raison d'être for our trip to Iceland in February 2014. The bus ride was spent in acute anticipation and once it stopped outside the city in what seemed to be the middle of a frigid no-where, we scuttled down like rabbits to stretch our legs and pupils. And there they were! Dancing, prancing, teasing, and putting up a show like a coquettish performer with green, red and pink plumage! They swayed and marched and jumped in and out of the dark curtains of the night. My favourite part was when it’d appear that the night's curtain has parted and the lights would spread out as laser beams into a semi-circle of red or green. 

Their majesty - The Northern Lights 

While most folks scrambled back into the bus at some point due to the cold, sweet sips of captain and coke (packed in a moment of puerile genius) helped our behinds stay perched longer while we soaked in the brilliant display.If you are in Iceland for a short time, I’d recommend booking the tour earlier in the trip as the tour operators allow you to go a second night for free if the lights flake out on you the first time. There are more luxurious ways to see Northern lights including watching them from the lounge/ hot tub of ION hotel. You would think that my trip was successful, but I came back wanting to go see the southern sister concern, Aurora Australis!

Blue Lagoon: Most people think of a naked Brooke Shields when they hear the term Blue lagoon. Imagine having to compete with that and yet, Iceland’s geothermal spa ‘Blue Lagoon’ is able to establish its own mind space. Amidst the freezing temperatures, a periwinkle blue lagoon of warm water with mystical vapors is set against the backdrop of black rocks and a panoply of white and light blue sky; the imagery is startlingly unique. You can chill in the warm lagoon, apply freely available silica mud pack for a self-induced beauty treatment, frolic in the hot showers and fountains or disappear into multiple steam baths or sauna rooms. Add to that a whimsical floating massage wrapped in a warm blanket and a glass of wine or ice cool smoothie in the lagoon bar and one starts thinking that this must be how it’d be like to bathe in heaven; hopefully with fewer and better looking folks around.

Blue Lagoon (Courtesy Closed Shutters)

Blue lagoon in Grindavik is 24 kms. from the Keflavik airport (Iceland’s main airport) and about 50 kms. from the city of Reykjavík. You can either drive or buy one of the bus tours (Reykjavík excursions, Iceland excursions, flybus) which will pick you up from hotel and drop you back or to the airport. There are several packages to choose from but I’d recommend booking in advance if you want to avoid the lines and carrying a towel or slipper if you just want to do an entry package. If relaxing so hard makes you hungry or bored, you can try out the delicacies at their Lava restaurant or shot at their souvenir shop.

Reykjavík: First things first, I had to unlearn pronouncing Reykjavík as (Rik-ja-vik) and say it the right way(Rey-e-ka-vik). For a capital city, Reykjavík is pretty understated but then one can blame it on the Danish influence. It’s about 50 kms from Keflavik airport and again you can either book a bus tour or rent a car (recommended) to get to the city. Car rentals can get pricey to book when you land so better book online or use some of the cheaper ones (Budget, SixT) located about 300 mts. outside the airport.

Colorful Reykjavík (Courtesy Closed Shutters) 

Reykjavík’s city center is its lifeline and that’s where I’d recommend people to stay if you want to be in the middle of action. Most of the sightseeing spots as well as restaurants, boutique shops and bars are within walking distance. Best way to explore Reykjavík is on foot and you can plan to cover most of the city in a day. The Hallgrímskirkja church in Reykjavík is the most well-known landmark with its simplistic yet unique architecture and a very large pipe organ (15 metres tall and 25 tons in weight).

Hallgrímskirkja church, Reykjavík (Courtesy Closed Shutters) 

While driving around the city, we came across the frozen lake Tjornin and the childlike joy of sliding down and running over a frozen lake has stayed with me as one of the other moments where travel transports you not only to a different place but to a difference plane in the time space continuum. 

Frozen Lake Tjornin (see if you can spot the skater) 

Despite not being in city center, we thoroughly enjoyed our stay at the Icelandair Marina hotel with the beautiful view of the marina and the ice capped mountains. The hotel with its quirky décor and theme based rooms was kind of a treasure hunt the daily breakfast spread of fresh salmon and heavenly pesto dip sealed the deal for us. The close proximity to Harpa (the business/community center close to Harbour) was an added bonus.

View from outside and inside of Harpa

Harpa has won several architecture award but for us it was more special as were able to catch the chef's battle finale of the ‘Food and fun’ festival as well as explore the farmer’s market with local vendors offering everything from rye bread (one cannot escape it in Iceland), wine, sea salt, fresh produce, sausages, soaps, scrubs, to kleinas (Icelandic donuts) and other delicacies including horse meat (don't ask why!) 

In my usual tradition, I had made reservations at supposedly one of the best restaurants 'Laekjarbrekka' in Reykjavík. The restaurant had excellent service and I tried the Icelandic platter (whale, fermented shark, puffins and dried fish). Whale tasted a bit like beef, shark more like stinky sticky cheese and I have no recollection of any distinct flavor for the putin and the fried fish was well fried fish. Apart from that and a good glass of wine, there was nothing notable to remember about the restaurant. Later our concierge recommended the Icelandic platter at Seafood grill but I had enough of rare meats for one trip. Le bistro for French and Icelandic influenced French food was a nice yet rushed meal. No matter where you eat, do not forget to try the rye bread ice cream at Café Loki in front of the church or world’s most famous hot dog Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur when in Reykjavík.

Icelandic treasures (fresh salmon, rye bread ice cream,world famous hot dogs and hlölla bátar)  

Although 70% of Iceland’s population lives in Reykjavík, you would not see too many souls waddling on weekdays. Weekends are a different story when Iceland comes out of hibernation and comes out to party. This was evident at the 'Slippbarin' in our hotel which transformed from a hotel guests only bar to a buzzing cocktail lounge full of hip crowd in a matter of few hours on Friday. I really liked Loftið club for it’s cool lounge vibe despite a little bit of Icelandic snootiness and dress code but was not a big fan of being in line at Austur for spotting celebs whom I could not even recognize even if I bumped into them. We ended up at B-5 which was full of drunk and belligerent college crowd; this went just fine with the boy’s idea of a great night out. The happy hour and movie trivia night at “Lebowski bar” was a great way to blend in with the locals and yes, Big Lebowski is big across the world! After downing several rounds of Katla (Icelandic vodka and Brennivin (schnapps and Iceland’s national drink), we found the perfect 4 AM food in ‘hlölla bátar’ (chicken sandwiches).

Glimpses of Reykjavík's nightlife 

I have used unique to describe Iceland for very many reasons, one of them being the Icelandic Phallological Museum dedicated to phallus. It houses specimens from land and sea mammals including homo-sapiens for scientific research and enquiry if one is so inclined. For a country, that’s looking at tourism as its poster child to come out of its economic slump, the prices are a little prohibitive. However, once you consider the natural wonders, unique experiences, breathtaking landscape, friendly locals and a buzzing nightlife; you'll start looking at flight tickets. In my next blog post, I will cover our tour of the Golden circle and an adventurous South shore trip. I guess, it’s time to take out that bottle of Katla and have a shot! Skál! 

Bloglets: Holi ! Hues of Nostalgia, Romance and Survival

Holi for the uninitiated is the Indian ‘festival of colors' which signals the arrival of spring and also coincides with the Hindu new year. One cannot escape the vibrant cacophony of colors around Holi; so, I decided to add a bit of color to my blog in the spirit of holi! Well, technically I wanted to represent the multiple hues through various perspectives, but coloring my fonts seemed so much easier and fun!

Didn't I say, I was in mood for some fun, so I painted too :)

As for adding color through perspectives, I will give that a shot too and if you do not like it, I have a popular Hindi adage associated with this festival for you - ‘बु रा ना मानो होली है ’. This literally means, ‘do not get upset, it’s Holi’ but mostly implies ‘I will do whatever the f&*# I want, deal with it because it’s Holi ’.

It’s one of the festivals that make me very nostalgic about my hometown and childhood. To begin with, Holi legitimized everything that would have landed me in trouble any other day of the year. Whether it was running on streets with abandon, getting dirty, playing with anything that can be used as a proxy for color, using ammunition like water balloons and color slings, bickering over pichkaris (weapons of water based mass destruction), hiding in inaccessible places..you name it. On top of that, Holi in my hometown was anything but civil. Oil paint, mud, cow dung, garbage, ponds to dunk people; anything was fair game. Only if you have been party to that ‘anything goes’ kind of Holi, will you understand the kind of base and free spirit it reminds me of. I am sure the mention of some of these will lead to a few crinkled noses, but I’ll take my chances.

In absence of any images of Holi from back home; close second from web (Source: http://iarani.blogspot.com/) 

Apart from the interesting choice of ammo, the strategies and rigour that went into it, made it even more memorable. We would douse ourselves in oil so that the colors won’t stick. Some would paint their own faces so other’s don’t get the pleasure and some would hide behind shields (locked doors, old grandparents, babies) palpitating and dreading their capture if it came to that, and mostly it did. Most kids would wear something that had not been worn in last few years and would at least be a few sizes too small (Try arguing with a middle class Indian mother!) for obvious reasons. If you really played Holi, piece of your clothing inevitably went home in your friend’s pocket. Then came the part around taking off colors where everyone would share tips on how best to get rid of the color or peel your skin, whichever happened first.  

It was also probably the only time when looking like a boy (I didn't know I had rights !) worked to my advantage as I was not the first target of the boys’ gangs. Yes, there were all sorts of gangs who would take to streets and visit all the houses in the colony looking for their willing or unwilling targets. Gangs of young boys and girls who would start early and make initial rounds, followed by the male members and then the female members would join in after all the cooking was done.One of my favorite memories of Holi is of my dad carving out logos or funny quotes that he would stamp on people’s clothes and my mom humming while cooking delicacies in the kitchen.

'Lathmar' Holi in Barsana (Braj) ; source (wikipedia; image by Narender9)  

A flirtatious society is usually a healthy society and the red of romance is an integral hue of Holi. No festival imbibes the naughtiness and flirtatiousness of Holi; which probably is second only to Garba in Gujarat during Navratras when it comes to sexual escapades. Part of this could be attributed to the fact that in local folklore, this festival finds its origins in Lord Krishna’s raas-leela (flirting and romancing) with thousands of his girlfriends/wives (16000 to be precise). Yeah, he is a GOD! Come to think of it, Holi epitomizes the dichotomy in Indian society. A prudish and sexist society legitimizes flirtation, free intermingling of sexes and thandai (Indian milk based drink often laced with bhang, a form of weed) during this festival which surprisingly also hardly has any religious rituals associated with it. So, we get one day of having pure unadulterated fun in the year(thank you ancestors!). Hence, I also feel that we do a poor job of promoting this festival. The lathmar holi; when women play act beating up the men with sticks and the stampede of color in Barsana in Braj (birthplace of Krishna) can rival any cultural travel experience in the world whether it’s Tomatina in or  Boryeong. 

Life in technicolor during 2014 Holi party in Brooklyn 

Even though I am usually mentally prepared but sometimes, there is a sharp tinge in my heart when I wake up hoping to see colored faces, some fervent running, shrieks and smell of “gujiyas” (typical Holi dessert, similar to sweet empanadas) and instead find that it’s just another snowed in day in New York. Thankfully, I have a few partners in crime and we try to create our own microcosm on festivals. So, even though our Holi starts at 10 PM with Indian take out and is played strictly with dry colors within a radius of 1 meter in my apartment; we still make it a point to celebrate Holi on the same day as in India every year. 

Holi 2014 in my apartment 

I know I've been reminiscing like an old lady but frankly it's not so bad. Living in New York comes with its own set of perks and you get to celebrate festivals from across the world. There are a few Holi events every year, granted they could happen 3 months after Holi. The Brooklyn open air Holi event last year in May (Holi typically is in March) with the smog of dry colors, technicolor faces, rap and hip hop music and, food carts selling chicken wings to South Indian dosa was as much a success as it was representative of the cultural melting pot that New York is. This year, a day party in Midtown Manhattan on Holi weekend was timely and more than made up for missing out on fun at home with some Bollywood numbers, dhol and non-stop revelry.   

Holi Party 2015 

To no surprise, the free spirit of Holi can also be misused but I don’t want to go back to black today so saving that rant for a darker day. And yes, the colors can harm your skin, eyes and hair and but then so can sun, air, and rain; so, I'd still say play a little, live a little. My olfactory memory is in overdrive as I write this and I can almost smell my mom's cooking and am humming ‘रंग  बरसे भीगे चुनार वाली' (a famous and definitely inappropriate Indian song about a girl getting drenched in Holi colors).

Bloglets: Of Semi Ski Trips

In addition to having to wade through several feet of snow or slush (if you live in New York); winter in this part of the world also earmarks the period of supposedly fun and adrenaline filled ski season. I recently went to my annual ritual of a trip to upstate New York (Hunter/ Wyndham) for a semi ski trip. I call it semi because only half the crew (5 out of 10 people) did partake in any form of skiing and the rest preferred slipping into the warmth of blankets over slipping on the slopes. To be fair, it was probably the smartest thing to do, given these were the choices (refer image below). 

The choices were pretty self explanatory 

My ambivalence towards snow or ski is not very difficult to explain. While exciting and new, it’s also something most people born and brought up in Indian peninsula have not been equipped or trained to deal with. The romance of first snow is so enticing that I myself have made innocuous prayers for it to snow like crazy. However, reality hits when you end up spending most of your day shoveling or avoiding a hip fracture while performing basic life tasks like walking or standing. The romance wears off pretty quickly after that, like in case of a beautiful but belligerent bride. 

My first ski lesson 

One can come across many wide eyed Indians including yours truly, who are thrilled about their first ski trip, primarily due to the novelty factor and the fact that they have no idea what it entails. Very soon they realize that 'these (ski) boots are not made for walking'. Also, that first trip pretty much seals one’s ski destiny. The first category takes to it naturally and finds itself engulfed by the passion for skiing and heads for glory on the Black diamond slopes and maybe even a few broken ribs in their attempts to tame the shrew (continuing with my analogy). At the opposite end is the category of the ones who cannot ski for their life and make peace with the fact that they are physiologically not made for this sport. A realization which comes easily when a toddler swooshes by while they are still taking ski lessons or figuring out how not to dislocate their ankles while trying to stand up with some ounce of dignity or when skiing translates into falling and rolling on the slopes for most part. Then there is the third category who will continue to have a love-hate relationship with skiing as they are decent enough to not absolutely hate it but can never be good enough to really enjoy it. 

I believe that I fall closer to the third category. I have made peace with the fact that I do not want to put myself through the pains to become mediocre at something I barely enjoy. At the same time, I cannot let go of an idea of a ski trip which usually also involves a road trip, a cabin filled with friends, laughter with something or the other always brewing or cooking (usually gossip, romance, Irish coffee, hot cocoa and brownies in that order) and where snow fights are the game du jour. 

Ski Trip to Hunter

Hence, I have found the “Golden mean” in snow tubing. The slopes are not too high, the lines are shorter and, it requires no unusual gear and little or no maneuvering to come down the slopes. Also, your behind is happily and safely perched on a tube and you look more like a funny pretzel than a pair of crooked chopsticks about to break. What’s even better is that you can find company in your misery or fun as you can do it in tandem with other friends.

Snow tubing on Hunter (courtesy google images as I was too busy having fun to take pictures) 

Another reason why I personally am not a big fan is how shabby the ski clothes make me look. With my jumpsuit and down jacket and the ski boots, I look like a stuffed teddy bear that is ready to go splat on her face. This fashion fiasco is just not limited to me but applies to anyone who does not want to drop a few thousand dollars for this seasonal activity. On that note, I recently discovered that brand snobbery is very much a part of anyone who takes up skiing seriously. Hiding behind those giant ski goggles, there is as much of scrutiny of the brand names and tags on the slopes of Vermont or Vail (popular ski destinations) as there is on 5^th avenue (famous for shopping in NYC). To put things in perspective, a discussion around a rocker or a camber (types of ski) is akin to having a discussion around cross-body or a minaudière (types of evening bags) and justification for anything expensive as an investment piece is no different, whether it's on the slopes or in the fashion echelons of NYC.

Another group ski trip pic with our 'fashionable' ski gear :)

I have always wondered why people choose skiing when there are options like snow tubing, dog sledging, snowmobiling etc. Ok fine, dog sledging is probably cruel but snow mobile or tubing? But then again, I have never understood why people do soul cycling either: P. Now, all this ski talk is making me want to fix up a hot chocolate with Baileys and reminisce about the time not spent on the slopes during our last trip to Catskills where we had rented out a fantastic cabin in the woods. While I am at it, I may order some chicken wings to go with the barbecue sauce I bought at the Catskill Mountain country store (highly recommended for brunch and it's condiments). 

Breezing in Barbados

Barbados is not for you if you cannot stand rich old white men and their fat old wives in frumpy floral monokinis; but then neither is any expensive beach destination. A lot of people saw my Barbados trip for Valentine’s Day as either a sign of positive change post marriage aka some warm fuzzy in my cold heart or a sign of absolute madness. I got 'romantic', 'bourgeois', 'crazy' and, 'bitch' probably in the same breath. To me, it was a make-up beach vacation for not having one during our honeymoon last December. Little did I know that my innocuous plans may not fructify as I saw most of Barbados either drugged (not alluding to the easily available marijuana) or scorched (not alluding to the sun but to an an ill-timed viral). So now I need a make up make up vacation. (Note to self - make sure the boy reads my blogs).

Paynes Bay Beach, St. James Barbados

Barbados is one of the south eastern Caribbean islands but probably you know it better as being a part of the West Indies or as Rihanna’s home country. It’s a small pear shaped island nation (~21 miles long and ~14 miles wide) and can be easily covered by road in half a day. We had rented a car and tried and tested the saying 'you cannot get lost in Barbados, you can only take a wrong turn' to perfection. The beautiful multi-hued azul waters with white sandy beaches typical of the Caribbean’s on the east coast, surfing on the west coast, copious amounts of rum, warm and affable locals, lush green interiors, clean roads, some great resorts and restaurants along with great connectivity makes it a popular Caribbean destination for Europeans and Americans alike; more so if you are over 60 and have a retirement fund.

Barbados is divided into 11 towns with each town offering some attraction or activity and a distinct character of its own. We had rented out a beach house on the beautiful Paynes bay beach in St. James town in the east which is lined with resorts, beach houses and restaurants. Being close to Holetown was an added bonus as it is a happening area with its boutique shops, local festivals, duty free mall or the lively 1st and 2nd streets full of bars, lounges and restaurants. In fact, the entire east coast is known for its white sandy beaches and more conducive for less intense activities like tanning, snorkeling, jet-ski and jumping into water from a party boat.

Map of Barbados (Courtesy Google Search)

We spent a lot of our time in the Christchurch town further down south. It boasts of ever popular St. Lawrence gap known for it's nightlife consisting of karaoke bars, sports bars or dance clubs and Oistins Fish Fry where the locals and tourists come out for some chilling and grilling. I have really come to appreciate the concept of Fish fry prevalent in some of the Caribbean islands. For the uninitiated it’s a congregation of several shacks, small time grill/barbeque restaurants where fresh catch/ meat is grilled, barbequed or jerked and the entire community comes together to enjoy a meal, grab a drink, socialize and have a good time.

St. Michaels which is home to Bridgetown, the capital of Barbados and the rum factories as well as the beautiful Carlisle bay is another town which is buzzing with activity. The west coast of Barbados has a more rugged shoreline and is ideal for surfing. Bethesda beach or “Soup Bowl” in St. Joseph’s town is home to several surfing championships during season. We set out driving along the coast trying to circumvent the entire country but ended up stopping at the breathtaking Animal Flower Bay in St. Lucy near north point and drove back home through some of the beautiful lush green interiors of Barbados.

Animal Flower Bay & Me 

The Barbadians or Bajans take tourism very seriously as was explicit from a tourism review survey being conducted at 2 AM at the airport. They also take cleanliness very seriously and you could see roads cleaner than most cities in the world along with signs claiming fine for littering. The Bajans are in general easy going and friendly people and you could attribute this to tourism being their bread and butter or just plain good manners. But we had several instances when people went out of their way to help us whether it was for parking, asking for directions or general chit chat.

Liming is the national pastime of Barbados and it can only be experienced to be fully understood. The closest words in English to liming would be breezing or chilling but with a sense of community involved. Some of the typical spots for liming in Barbados are bars, local fish frys and, the golf club houses. When people typically say everyone is going to be at Oistins Fish Fry on a Friday night, in Barbados it literally means everybody in the country is going to be there.

Some of the best food in Barbados can be found at a fish fry or a road side grill whether it’s Caribu deli’s fry chicken or Connie’s grill’s barbeque chicken or George’s Flying fish. Even an hour long wait at George’s at Oistins did not deter our enthusiasam and our grilled red snapper was so good, my fever and foul mood were uplifted immediately.

Chilling & Grilling in Barbarbados 

That does not mean that Bajans do not do 'fancy'. From world class resorts (Sandy Lane, Fairmont), expensive fine dining restaurants(The Cliff, Tides or CinCin), to expansive golf courses; Barbados has all the components of “the good life” granted with a commensurate hole in your pocket. Some of the prices looked outrageous even to me as a New Yorker but once I sat near a fire lit porch with the rummaging sea waves nearby and the lovely wine and fresh catch on the table; I forgot the worries of real life, like how will I make rent. Eat drink and be merry for tomorrow we may worry!

Dinner at CinCin

Coming back to our Valentine’s Day, we realized that most if not all restaurants had been booked in advance and we had to resort to using out connections (read our landlady’s reference), playing on generous emotions people display towards new love (claiming it to be our first valentine together) and what no one can resist (my feverish fervor for valentine’s day) to get a table at “The Mews”. Eventually, karma caught up with us and we had to cancel our reservations and stay in due to my fever. Within a matter of hours, a fancy Valentine’s Day dinner had converted into a take-out Indian food, lounging in 2nd street in Hole town had converted to streaming a Bollywood movie and India Pakistan cricket match simultaneously and a night out in Lawrence gap in Barbados had turned into a cozy homely night in. The irony of this situation is not lost on me but at the expense of sounding clichéd; it indeed turned out to be a very fun night... a very expensive one for that kind of fun but then we are all a little generous around this day.

Valentine's day breakfast (caveat emptor: managed under high fever & limited resources)

I will probably remember this vacation more than others. If not for the viral, then maybe for the expensive visit to a doctor, or for the relief of not having Chikungunya or the fact that I could not have been closer to the beach and yet not be on the beach. Well, it was not all so grim and we tried to make the best of a few hours every day when either the fever was low or when the rum got better of me. In fact if you ask the boy, this was one of the better vacations he has had. There was no nagging, no one making reservations at expensive places, no drama, no shopping and instead long peaceful hours of sleep and a profusely sorry or thankful partner. Perspective!

Barbados being a British colony also worked out well for us. It was a relief to have the right hand drive again, where people knew about cricket, understood that a world cup can only be played amongst different countries of the world and the Bajan dialect just added more colour to our conversations if you know what I mean.

This trip got me thinking as to why I love beaches so much despite being retarded when it comes to swimming or most water sports. The combination of balmy sun, rum and good food definitely has a lot to do with it but I also realized that there is something inherently calming about the grumble of the seas that puts the entire rumble inside me at peace. I heard some folks who had been going down to Barbados for 18 years and despite my love for beaches, I cannot understand the rhyme or reason for that, unless your mother lives there. Come to think of it, I have not even been home for 18 straight years. So, I guess it’s time to plan another trip where I won’t feel bad about staying in and eating Indian food because I will be HOME.

From Bihar to Big Apple Bloglets: Life and Beyond in 2015

With New Year comes resolutions and if you are even a wee bit human, comes sucking at those resolutions. Hence, I came up with a master plan to avoid all the disappointment at the beginning of the year and decided to use the entire month of January to make my resolutions. So, while the whole world would already have moved through its 5 stages of grief over failing at their resolutions; I’d still be bursting with positive energy and enthusiasm to come up with a plan for my life and beyond in 2015. Genius you say?! Well, not really since it’s already February and I am still finalizing my list.

Now getting back to routine, the last blog I wrote was around my birthday in September 2014 with a renewed vow to write more frequently and so clearly I stuck to my guns (# publicfail). I also urged everyone to make their New Year resolutions around their birthday instead of New Year. While the reasoning was fairly logical; empirical evidence in my case suggests that the only reason I came up with it was so that at my snail’s pace, I’d probably have a resolution by New Year’s eve.

To be fair, I accomplished planning and executing a wedding and honeymoon across continents since my last blog. For the uninitiated, I stepped into the married vortex in December 2014 and surprisingly am still surviving and smiling and I do plan to write about them. However, I do intend to spare you any honey dripping cheesiness and my blogposts about the wedding will primarily focus on the trials and tribulations of an immigrant bride to be and for the honeymoon diaries, I plan to focus on the travel experiences we had in South America. However, if life has not beaten the crap out of the romantic in you, no details are off limits over a bottle of fine Malbec procured at one of the vineyards of Mendoza in Argentina. 

While I am excited about the possibilities this New Year brings in terms of travel, career, personal growth or relationships, an inescapable dread has somehow found its way into my heart. One questions things to look forward to after reading about death of human spirit in one form or other in the papers these days. Growing up, I used to wonder why people continued to live in Kashmir, Gaza or any other strife ridden place when there were safe places elsewhere. While the naivety in my assumption is abundantly clear to me now; what’s also hauntingly becoming clear is that the no-where in the world is safe anymore.  Sometimes it just feels like we are all awaiting our turn and hence trying to make merry till then, while living in denial.

On that morbid note, I am sure of one thing that I plan to do this year even while I continue to work on my elaborate list. I am going to hug my family and friends a little tighter and make an effort to connect, talk and spend time with them because this is something I still have a great degree of control over and life’s too short for regrets. So, if you hear from me out of the blue, just go along because that only means I care for you. Now coming back to the New Year which is still ~11/12^th in my control, where is that damn list again………. 

P.S. - went looking for a glass of wine while reliving the view of the Andes instead. happy thoughts :)