The Spicy Indian Blog

Like the rotund bunny jumping by right beside you,  n swiftly running up the hill,  just as he reaches the top, he pauses,  his long ears silhouetted against the sky, As if saying, Till next time bro, and moves on Life has more nice moments in store On the lush monsoon hill, When the soft drizzle  lovingly anoints you While the cool n light breeze Is Softly embracing you Life has more nice moments in store When you are watching from your window A beautiful mount of green Or walking on it,  Wondering what the birds might be saying When some peaceful moments walk together with you Life n God have more of them in store You are passing near a ledge on the hill A dreamy waft of pervading sweet jasmine  Suddenly envelops you in the still darkness And makes you pause and breathe in deep the moment When such unexpected but welcome happiness drifts in  Life has more nice moments in store As the rain gods march Sprinkling an ethereal fog of beauty where they pas...

I took the pen in my hand after quite some time...or was that the keyboard I picked up...no that doesn't sound too right. Ok, I am writing after quite some time...And it feels good. 'Twas after a nudge from my friend since childhood, to write about the current situation, that I am taking this up. So thanks Amit for getting me to activate my blog again. Things around the world are not normal, my immediate proximity included. There is clear and present danger around us.  My innate sceptic sense now tingles even more at any thing that is brought into the home from outside, be it groceries, or vegetables, or medicine strips. Their days of being imponderably innocuous objects are now past. It is mildly humorous, and dark, that I now look at a potato (or a bunch of spinach, or a box of detergent, or a simple strip of dispirin) and imagine if there is something virulently pathogenic on them, and if these have been compromised by a touch not so holy. And ponder briefly if thes...

 A cormorant flies across  The still, bounded waters of the Dam,  As the free bird glides over it with ease,  It seems to chide the water, and tease,  Just beyond, the freer world awaits...  My self-adorned shackles,  Yet bruising the ankles,  Seem to clang louder, and convey,  Just beyond, the freer world awaits...  The weight restricting the freedom,  Promising to get lighter, as it cries  Act, consolidate, decide, and quicker  Just beyond, the freer world awaits...  A moist breeze caresses  the towering green mountain;  The embrace comfortingly says  Don't worry, just a little beyond, the freer world awaits...

The Jeep is reversing on a narrow jungle track as rushed as it can. But over the loud cackling of its engine and rustling of the branches the jeep unapologetically brushed by, is one unmistakable sound - the hastening beat of my pounding heart. This is jarred every alternate second by the trumpets of the three elephants charging at us, their trunks raised, and their heavy legs kicking off the heavy jungle dust akin to leading the charge in a war. In the still and noiseless jungle setting, the sound of every single elephant trumpet, coupled with the heaviness of their charge can pierce and shred every single assumption of well-being and security that you have ever had in your life. A panic that you have not known so far;  a fear so primordial, not experienced so far.. It is clear by now, the charge is not a mock one. The elephants are sufficiently peeved to respond everytime they hear the roaring of the jeeps engine approaching. May be half an hour earlier in the Evening, we ...

As I position myself to come out of my apartment complex, I am cut off by a thick perpendicular slab of disagreeable traffic. Even as the daily routine is about to kickstart, this manifestation of the social chaos is the first hurdle to assess, tackle, and merge into. Your morning tranquility zone ends here abruptly to a jarring cacophony. The squealing and squawking of the swarm of two wheelers - which is the first you need to tackle since they buzz from the sides in this traffic- is akin to those of a bunch of unruly parrots, which descend on you suddenly. I wait for a few seconds to prepare my required shift to the next energy band. For those two seconds however, my mind slips into alternative thought. Should I work from home just today to avoid this traffic? Probably not. Do I like enough doing what I do? What do I like doing?  My thoughts still reach me over the din of the vehicles, but cannot start in these few seconds a journey towards a conclusion. The starting melod...

I visited Blue Ginger from 1st to 3rd November 2012, with my wife and 4.5 year old son. I started from Bangalore at 6 am and reached the Vythiri village at 2 pm with a 1 hour stop in between. I had recieved a call from the resort around 11.00am to check where I was, and was asked to call the resort once I reached the Vythiri village. I called back and in a few minutes a jeep arrived to guide me to the parking area. From the parking area is a 20 min drive uphill to the resort in the resort's jeep. Your car remains parked down the hill. The drive to resort is a nice starter to the experience. When I alighted from the jeep inside the resort, I was impressed with the view, the scenic natural ambience it exudes. This sets the right tone. I was also given a room upgrade based on availability. The resort experience is quite good. It has a pair of waterfalls within the estate, which the young and middle aged can access without much issues. Might be difficult for senior citizens. ...

Just an innocuous pickup at the Mumbai airport could end up costing you over Rs.300 even before you sit in your pickup vehicle. I guess I was just a minute late in locating the mini-van that had come to pick me up at the Santacruz Airport in Mumbai. The Airport was the first stop on starting from Dadar for Amit, Ranjeet-Preeti, and Nishant on the way to Dapoli. Our destination, Harne-Murud was around 270 km southwards from Dadar (Mumbai – erstwhile Bombay) , and around 380kms northwards from Goa. Very much on the coast. And this region in general, is silently proud of its numerous beautiful beaches. Much like the less flamboyant but nevertheless very beautiful country girls. The Konkan region is the beautiful south-western coastline of the state of Maharashtra in India. This verdant region, with bountiful coconut and betel-nut plantations had yet escaped my travel till date. Guess it had to wait for the first decade of the new millennium to turn over, for me to be able to leave my foo...

Shubham has now taken his 2nd or 3rd baby step in analytical comprehension. Now he can grasp constructs like if-then-else, action-reaction, cause-effect, basic shapes. His most interesting observation till date was when he saw a person exercising in the apartment. He pointed out 'Taingle'. I was about to ignore his pointing as a follied infantile babble, when my slower CPU brain connected the dots, and saw the 'taingle' or triangle he was referring to : the shape formed by the man's outstretched legs with the ground. He is also climbing the inquisitive ladder fast. 'He kaay ae? he kaay ae?' is a mantra that he chants unerringly at any new thing that his rapidly building encyclopedia cannot index to. And then he cements his knowledge by asking the 'he xyz aahe ka' type of questions. And they keep on coming faster than even the training ball machines on tennis courts can throw at you. But hey unlike the tennis balls, his innocently analytical questions...

Today morning I returned from the bank, and turned inside crossing the entrance to the car-park. Shubham rambled along. There are two benches there placed opposite to each other, beside the walk-way. Shubham suddenly turned and climbed the bench, and sat there. And told me 'Teeee bassa', implying 'Sit, and on that bench there, not this one'. Then we just sat there for the next ten minutes. People came and passed by, minutes came and passed by. And we just sat there. Shubham looked around and admired the plants, and searched around for the 'fullu' or flowers. I indicated to him I we should go home now, but he clearly said 'naahi' (which he can say quite firmly now :-) ) . And we sat for somemore time. What was revealing to me that it is possible to spend time with Shubham without doing the high-energy running around or playing, and screaming part. Just sit down in front of each other. A nice and quiet moment to share.

We landed in India on the 10th of Jan 2009. July 9 would have implied the completion of 6 months on returning back from the US.SHubham has a PIO, so he did not need a visa to enter India. He did not have a OCI since none of me or my wife is a US citizen or green card holder. We are part of that sect of the neue Indian populace which strives to get the world for their children, but themselves prefer to return to their motherland after they have gratified themselves with their adventurous forays abroad. So, around 1st week of June, we started working towards getting Shubham registered as a Resident Alien here in India, or Bangalore to be more specific. The first step we took is get a financial affidavit of support from a Chartered Accountant who got it notarised it for us. I won't mention the name here, but its in Jayanagar, and I had earlier got my pan card done, and income tax return done from him a few years back.I visited him on a Saturday. You will probably get the notarisation ...

After staying on for another four unscheduled days in the US, I returned back to Bangalore for good. This homeward migration of mine occurred 3 years and 5 days after I had taken off for San Francisco. Mentally, I was boarding the train back where I had disembarked. People, Places, and the Times, however, had moved far off in the meantime. So, every moment was a surprise of some sort; whether because of the humungous rise in prices, or the developments in the places that I had known, or the metamorphic transformation of the company I worked at, or the changes in the lives of people around me. Every moment implied recalibrating my understanding of things. That still goes on. Wish there was a simple F5 to life. It will still be some time, though, before it reveals to me how relevent I and my accruals over the last few years stand in the context of today here.

Today, the 1st of Jan 2009 is Shubham's First Birthday...! Here's his First Birthday Cake : The Cake is Two-Themed : Mickey and His Gang Plus Nemo And his Friend !!! Got custom made at the HyVee SuperMarket here in Rochester...! Ain't it cool? A Wonderful Cake For A Precious Boy...! Kulkarnyancha Diva aaj Ek Varshacha jhaala. Celebrate !!! We are already off to a Party!!!

There would surely be some relief for me that I would not be in the Midwest for the worst part of this year's winter...! I have had more than my share of the cold last year. This area gives new dimensions to the word FRIGID. This part of the world could be a candidate for the place where the phrase '...and the hell freezes over' was coined... Fingers turn into popsicles before you can even say 'freeze'... :-(... You see, with temperatures feeling like minus 38 degrees celcius, if we come to India to a temperature of 30 degrees, that entails a temperature jump of nearly 60-70 degrees. Interesting, eh... This is just the beginning. Aage aage dekhiye hota hai kya...!

Shubham got his first haircut today the 2nd of Dec 2008. This was nearly 11 months after his birth. We went to the Supercuts in the Marketplace Dr. It lies in the same complex near Panera Bread and Chipotle. I guess Papa would remember that. He has been to the complex a few times. The lady performing the haircut did it niftyly. So the experience was good and not at all tiresome. Shubham was a bit uncomfortable when she attempted to cut the hair near his ears. But otherwise, but Mugdha and I were talking to him all the while, and he was ok. After the haircut, he looks a bit grownup now. This prompted me to change my way of talking to him and the way I look at him with mind's eyes. His first locks, as per the family tradition, need to be deposited in a river. We chose the Mississippi, no less. The next time I travel to La Crosse, I would stop by the beautiful Rest Area (the first one on the Minnesota side while returning from La Crosse). The Mississippi is usually frozen at this time...

They say a Picture is worth a Thousand words.  So this article would be worth atleast 6-7000 words. Let's see if they convey what I had to convey about the landscape when I was clicking these.

Last Saturday, I ventured to do something I had stopped doing for quite some time.  Open an hitherto unopened window.  And then enjoy the new vista. I attended a concert in Western Classical Music at the Mayo Civic Center Theater in Rochester. It was a concert featuring Beethoven's Fifth symphony, the beginning of which has  been used for great effect in many a dramatic situations. I began listening to western classicals more intently during my long to and fro drives to La Crosse. Listening to the Minnesota Public Radio became a habit. My ear became accustomed to the concertos and symphonies played on throughout.  In fact so much that my first instincts after sitting in the car, apart from confirming the position of the rearview mirror, were to confirm I was on FM 91.7 . This is not to say that I understood the technicalities at all, but simply that I used to like listening to these classical strains.  I recently got a 'Classical Music For Dummies' audiobookfrom the Public ...

On the 16th of April, we crossed the milestone we had planned for so intricately over the last year. This effort towards this goal was probably driven by the same parental instinct which motivates you to try and have the best for your kids. At least, to the maximum extent possible, have the best options available for them to select from. We recieved Shubham's passport, a US one, this day. Shubham is now a US national, born to Indian parents, who wish to remain Indian yet themselves. I guess I am part of that expanding tribe of some of the Indians, which wants their progeny to be US citizens, but shy away from that commitment for themselves. At the end of the day, this tribe is happy to go back to their motherland, for whatever it holds in store for them. Yeah. Sure. But this blogticle is about Shubham's US passport and his US citizenship. It would be the first time in the Kulkarni clan, or in related families, that anybody would have his motherland and nationality different ...

The Drive to La Crosse in the morning is a long one. It is also one of the most scenic drives that I have had to undertake till date. Driving along on the Interstate 90 this time of the year is like driving inside a picture postcard. The landscape is blanketed in snow, and radiates a stark, yet bright and unblemished beauty. Charming villages with happily snow covered roofs roll by. For a change, I can enjoy this beauty without fear of the moment passing away, as I know I will be back the next morning or the like. What makes this morning drive exquisite is the direction that I drive on the I-90 early in the morning. East. The Sunrise over such a wonderfully picturesque landscape is such a treat. Each morning when I start the drive after 6.30, I see a uniquely magnificent vista. Each day, the fresh cloud formations ensure I see a differently splendorous panorama. The sky splashes itself with joy at first hint that the sun is beginning its rise in a while. The glorious hues that the sky ...

Wish I was still having my morning visit to the Breakfast Table at the Bayerischer Hof. Its this table after all, which has successfully overthrown the four year old reign of the Homewood Suites Hilton Breakfast as my fav breakfast. Man...Was I impressed with the layout...! Even the start with the corn flakes was out of ordinary. The variety was so abundant that I could practically have something new everyday of my two week stay there. Every glistening flake inviting you to taste its lustrous crunch. Add milk and honey and you really are off to a sumptous start. The German Breakfast has a variety of Mueseli too, unlike the breakfasts in US. I feel Mueseli tastes better with some corn flakes added though. My favorite part of the breakfast were the mini croissants. I love croissants since my childhood, and their availibility on this breakfast table really sealed the decision for me, proclaiming it as the new champion for me :-) ... Maracujasaft or Maracuja juice has been a welcome taste ...

You are walking past a door for the last time... The click of the opening door handle, for once seems so conspicuous, and suddenly seems to trigger off a surge of feelings within you. You hold the door half-way; and look back at your place. Your chest seems to get clouded just as you turn. You try to gather as much of this place within your eyes, and hope that atleast the memories will stay forever as fresh as how you are looking at it now.And that you be willingly able to recall these in your mind anytime you wish to. While you are still reluctant to let go of the door, you wonder, if you did justice to this place when you were here; whether you did justice with the time that you spent here. You know that you are going to miss this place; if only for some time, but you will. As you decide to let go, you know its more than a door that you are letting close, its a chapter of your life that you are closing...Moving on to the next chapter with fresh hopes as well as new apprehensions, and...