Small Talk

‘‘There?’’, a message pops up in my Gmail window. The time-tested breach of privacy, in spite of the invisible mode. But then, it’s my mother at our ‘family time’ on a Saturday evening. 17:45 hours on the German Clock and 21:15 hours IST. Not too early for me, not too late for my family. “Yes, I’ll come on Skype.”, I type in. After an endless check of my credentials, Skype tells me that Microsoft now owns it. I click on the equivalent of “Like I care!” and place a video call to ‘BastiHomeFalnir’. A click tells me that the call went through, but the slow DSL line at home shows me a black screen loading and finally a pixilated series of images of my charming mother shows up. I ignore the recommendation to switch off the video due to poor call quality and focus the webcam on myself.

In spite of this weekly routine for over a year now, there is always enough to ‘report to the headquarters’. I begin by telling mom my overall score from the last semester and she wants to know - “So at what position do you stand in the class?” After sidelining the question for which I don’t know the answer and don’t intend to find out, I tell her about our trip planned for the next weekend. She says she loved the pictures from the last one and is so happy that I am getting to see such lovely places at ‘this young age’. I still can’t believe that I am 25 already, but I mentally add ‘Sponsor parents’ Europe trip’ to my ever growing ‘To do once I make enough money’ list. She asks me “What was special for lunch today?” and I go on to narrate all our experiments in the kitchen during the past week. Starting with a few kitchen tips, the expert cook goes on to dictate one of her award winning recipes to me. I stop her midway and ask her to send it in an email instead. The only thing I can remember about food is the taste and the amazing sleep that follows!

Just then my brother barges in, making a fuss about needing the computer and the call taking too long. He is to leave for Bangalore to pursue MCA in a couple of days. Mom calls me in to do the dirty work of enlightening him with my ‘wisdom’ before he sets out into the ‘real world’. I take my cue from his 2nd yawn within the 3rd minute of my lecture and decide to cut it short to a “All the very best! Make us proud!” After some more small talk, he leaves, but not before reminding Amma that she has only 5 more minutes to finish the call. Mom is elated about his rank when it mattered and that he has in her words, “found a path for his life”.

Dad suddenly takes the ‘hot seat’ for a rapid-fire round. He brings me up to date with the latest from our family circle and all the happenings in Mangalore that I missed being away. I repeat all the news from my end and ask him about his work. “All is well by God’s grace”, he says and asks me if I find time for sports or any other form of exercise. As I tell him about suryanamaskara in the mornings, he notices that its 10pm, time for CID on Sony TV and takes my leave. Mummy returns! She talks of her loot at the fish market that morning and about the ‘Sungta Hingaudda’ (Prawn Curry) and ‘Tallele Visonu’ (Fish Curry) that they relished remembering me. I suck in the sudden gush of saliva and quickly count the days till my home visit. Adding insult to injury, she reminds me of the coming festival days of Deepavali and to refrain from even thinking about any such non-vegetarian delicacies on those holy days!

My Grandma who heard a ‘familiar voice’ peeks in and calls my Grandpa to come say “Hello” to their loving grandson. “You have become fair and well built”, she claims. After Typhoid having reduced me to skin and bones just before my travel here, no wonder I appear Machoman in comparison. She informs me of all my cousins and relatives whose marriages have been ‘fixed’ recently and seems to be in a hurry to fix me up as well! She however puts it more subtly as “I pray to the Lord that I get to witness such happy occasions of my grandchildren”. I grab the few awkward seconds in between, to broach the face-saving wins of Team India against the English to my quietly watching Grandpa. We exchange some more about evening walks and fiction novels and the weather, before Grandma signs off with her trademark shower of blessings, ending with reminding me to “Keep giving us the good news”.

After confirming that “I really want to quit Skype”, I sit back and let the simple elation of the family time engulf me. Just before I grow too restless, I say to myself “I need to write about this” and get on with the weekend chores.

The DAAD Prize

Thanks to our University website, Facebook and my mother, most of my close family and friends, apart from many strangers are aware of me having received it a couple of months ago. With congratulations and wishes still trickling in, its high time I shed some light on what it’s all about.

DAAD is short for 'Deutscher Akademischer Austausch Dienst' - 'German Academic Exchange Service' in English. It is a body constituted by institutes of higher education in Germany, whose purpose is to promote and support education and academic relations. In short, if you are considering studying here and wondering whom to ask about it, look no further. DAADy knows it all! In fact, my quest to pursue Masters in Germany started with a colleague telling me about its website. Apart from providing necessary information, they motivate academic achievers with scholarships and prizes.

I got the first hints of the ‘good news’ when our Program Manager at the University indicated ‘something positive’ that awaits me in the coming days, but would say no further, lest she spoil the pleasant surprise. You see, women have this habit of slipping a tiny worm into your ears and letting it chew up your brain! I mean, why not just let it be a surprise all together?! Anyways, the semester exams being round the corner, the heavy traffic of theories, equations and numericals through my neurons left no room for worms and I got on with the final lap of the course work. A couple of weeks later, it was official. An email from the Graduate School Office informed me about having been nominated by the university for the DAAD Best Foreign Student Award for the year 2010-11. My above-average academic performance, contribution as a Speaker of my class, a Student Representative in the Faculty Council and the Study Fee Committee were stated as the deciding factors for my nomination. The prize would be formally handed over during the Graduation Ceremony for the Summer Semester in about a month’s time. The privilege was quite unexpected, but an uncoordinated physical and verbal outburst was justified!

Seated in the second row of the town hall - 'Neckar Forum', I tried to get used to my suit, having worn it only once before in a trial room. After a series of speeches by the dignitaries, the prize distribution ceremony finally got under way. When my name was called out, I calmly walked up to the podium, received my certificate and joined the other awardees on the stage. A loud applause that followed resonated with my now rapid heartbeat, as I pretended to feel at home, facing the packed auditorium of 800+ spectators. I felt elated by this honour and dedicated the prize to my late grandfather who had helped me follow my German Dream. That day, the 29th of July coincidentally happened to be his birthday.

My mother almost fell off her chair laughing when I showed her the the DAAD ‘Urkunde’ (‘Certificate’ in German) over Skype, as it sounds quite hilarious in our regional language! All the same, she and rest of my family were very proud of their ward and word soon spread from mouth-to-ear-to-mouth. Mom had wishes for me from someone or the other, each time I called her. A news item appeared in a local Konkani newspaper in Mangalore and a mention was made in a family blog. A friend who happened to see the news item on my college website shared the link on facebook and so my ‘friends’, and their friends, and their friends… got an update. The aspiring applicants to my university also visited this webpage and I receive queries even to this day! Apart from this recognition, the award brought with it a substantial cash prize and more importantly, a valuable entry in my resume!

I am definitely not the most humble person and am quite proud of making my mark in this foreign land. However I genuinely feel that it would not have been possible without the support of my family, the blessings of my elders and of course the grace of the Almighty. Besides, a lot remains to be done and it is now time to eye the next strike at the ever moving goal-post.

Money Matters

Money does matter. More so in Germany, as nothing comes for free here. One has to either have more than enough or learn to manage with just enough. The latter has been one of the toughest challenges of my stay here.

Although education in Germany is relatively inexpensive, the cost of living is quite substantial, making the package deal quite an expensive affair, for me at least. The exchange rate turned the estimated expenses in Euros into a larger number of Rupees and my little savings appeared all the more inconsequential. After several failed attempts to secure a scholarship, I resorted to the inevitable educational loan. I felt robbed when the bank documents I signed burdened me with a 6 digit debt, while the Euro cheque I received showed a 4 digit figure. Thanks to the financial backing from my grandfather, a dependable financial arrangement was made. But it was clear that money would be a limited resource to be spent judiciously during the 18 months.

Just like the one who earns in Dollars and Euros is a rich man in India, I, with the exchanged Rupees in my pocket was a poor man in Germany. The first Bretzel (a kind of bread) I ate cost 1 Euro, but my mind was thinking - 60 Rupees! That would bring me a Special North-Indian Thali back home. First few weeks were spent in this constant mental multiplications and comparisons during shopping, from Milk to Cone Ice-cream to T-Shirts. With accommodation, insurance and travel costs remaining fixed monthly expenses, I tried my best to minimize the variable components. Within a couple of months, I had a database of the most economical brands and the best offers!

It was soon clear to me, that the only way to deal with the ‘Euro – Rupee Paradigm’ was, to find a source of Euros! My unsuccessful attempts to find a scholarship had given me a consolation prize of a mentor in a german automotive MNC in Stuttgart. However he turned out to be much more than a mere consolation to me, as he helped me find a part-time job and later, my master thesis. With this new inflow, my slowly diminishing bank balance stabilized, since the monthly expenses were more or less taken care of. However, the earlier months had taught me the value of money and ways of using it effectively.

My only weakness in financial planning has been my passion to travel. A heavier pocket allowed room for stretching of the trip budgets. A friend of mine shared the same passion and constraints and we formed the ‘Trip Planning Team’. We surfed the web for travel options, special offers, travel blogs, visitor experiences – practically everything that would help us put together a cost effective and worthwhile trip. We have so far been able to pull off visits to places in Italy, Belgium, Netherlands, France, Austria and of course, parts of Germany.

I gradually learned to think in Euros. Daily spending, although not lavish, became more generous. I tried the more expensive groceries at times. The odd lunch in the canteen or a restaurant relieved me from the cooking routine. I picked up the Ice-cream cone more often. I bought the 2nd or 3rd cheapest T-shirt if I liked it. I began to think of ‘value’ as much as ‘cost’.

My ultimate goal is, to fly out of Germany with as much in hand as when I landed. Although the cash award of DAAD Prize takes me close, I will probably not totally break even. But I am quite satisfied all the same. How about another trip to celebrate the savings?!

Exam Fever

It’s good to be in the recovery phase now! Yet another unavoidable exercise of short term evaluation of long term learning has left me quite drained. Having managed the 1st semester exam of the Masters quite well, the 2nd battle would lack some elements of surprise. However it still required some doing.

I can best summarise the 2nd semester as 3 months of project, followed by 3 weeks of exams. Our struggles with the operating system and the copter during the project ate up most evenings and weekends, while the lectures remained the most popular show in town. The professors performed in the lecture halls, while we attended regularly, applauded and left. Nothing much transpired regarding those subjects in between the lectures. The huge reference books with fancy titles gathered the dust of my room over the semester. They only got the chance to challenge the strength of my shelf, rather than the capacity of my brain! Having to share my time between lectures, projects, assignments, part-time job, blogging, reading and travel, studying remained to be done 'tomorrow'. With only a couple of weeks till the exams, additional reading would be impractical, managing the lecture slides would be a feat in itself.

As the days finally ran out, the first paper said - “Ready or not, here I come!”. And we definitely didn't see it coming. 2 out of the 3 sections of the paper showed us stars on a bright Monday morning! The 'open book' luxury didn't help much as we ran out of books to open! With an out-of-syllabus question adding insult to injury, we left the lecture halls fuming out our frustration via colourful language in praise of our dear Professor! After this rough start, the next encounter was a 'closed book' one. We had all the variants this time, but most interesting were the 'partially open book' ones – only 2 handwritten sheets allowed. Although intended to save the students from unnecessary memorizing of formulae and facts, some chose to exploit the loop hole to avoid memorizing anything. They broke records with hilarious display of data compression of the complete curriculum onto the 2 sheets in micro-writing. I wonder how long it took them to find the answers in the labyrinth, if they did find at all.

These couple of weeks have been as challenging to the rest of my body, as it was to my brain. Exams tend to screw up my biological cycle by cutting off the nerves connecting my organs to my brain! Food and sleep are usually the dearest to me, except during the exams. The nights and the mornings before the exam days saw me struggling to force enough food down my almost shut food pipe to keep me from passing out during the 2 hours. As I struggled with the questions, my classmates could hear my stomach cry out for help, and yet my brain focused on the solutions. With the end of each exam, my brain became aware of the other emergencies in the body and I desperately crawled to the kitchen and made up for the previous meals and more! The time in bed the night before was usually a futile attempt at 'getting some sleep'. After endless rounds of tossing and turning, I would finally give up and just lie in Shavasana waiting for the alarm to ring.

The eve of the last paper was of the likes of Christmas eve! We counted down the hours and discussed our travel plans for the coming vacation. As the last race of my hands against those of the clock got under way, my silly smile grew wider by the minute and my lips ended up close to my ears by the end of it. With Salzburg, Berlin and Cologne waiting for our visit, it was just a matter of deciding which one first!

Project Impossible

It all began at the beginning of our 2nd Semester mid of March. 'The Project' was to replace one full course work worth 7 credits and hence meant serious business. 10 of us had to pick among 2 options and so was not really much of a choice. Relying on a better sales pitch from this Prof and hoping to do something 'real' after a semester dominated by theory, I decided on it. And so did 5 others.

The project is titled - Documentation, Testing and Enhancement of an OSEK compliant Realtime Operating System and Porting a Quadrocopter Software onto it. Translated to English, it aims to get a Windows like system working and to install a Skype like software on it. Just to avoid misconceptions, clicking on a .exe, then a series of 'next's and finally the 'finish' is not what I am talking about! Besides, the software is 'expected to' fly a 'Quadrocopter', which is a small helicopter with 4 motors, you probably saw Amir Khan flying in '3 Idiots'.

The first hurdle in our way was to settle on 'who does what???'. Everyone was keen on playing the 'pivotal role'. Past experience, area of expertise and future plans were stated to acquire responsibility for the 'IN' portion. 'Software Development' was aspired, while 'documentation and testing' were looked down upon! I claimed it was too little work for 6 and the Prof finally suggested we split us into 2 teams of 3 each, working parallely towards the same target.

It took less than a couple of weeks into the project, for me to be proved wrong. Working with an already developed, poorly documented and horribly structured system was turning out to be a nightmare! Outdated documents, missing functions, failed tests and undocumented assumptions greeted us at every corner! Keeping up with the goal post, that our Prof kept moving during every project meeting and getting required clarification and information from his assistant turned out to be our greatest challenges. Among other tasks, I was also responsible for getting the Copter to fly. But I was soon left with no doubt whatsoever that the bulky german pigs would fly well before the Copter would consider moving on its own! Further, the limited knowledge, work experience and communication skills of our team left enough to be done by 6 at least, if not more and the Prof decided to reunite us. Once we finally put all that actually remained to be done on the table (which was quite a heap!), we split the burden. The tasks being disjoint in nature, it was every man/woman more or less to him/herself  (Gender is a pain in literature, isn't it?!).

Documentation of 2 functionalities required me to take a dive into the technical details. The complex entwine of functions, headers and pointers left me seeing a matrix of 1s and 0s, reloaded again and again! Although over a period of time I got a hang of the system, working with the enigma of a documentation tool that our Prof religiously insisted upon, required a generous usage of the 4 lettered word! It was the development of an illustration project to support my documentation that really got me interested in the project. For a change, I could see the result of my work, even if as trivial as some leds blinking and beeper beeping on a development board, appearing real. With the new-found inspiration, I began putting the Copter software in place. You really know I am excited about this thing, if you saw me working on it after dinner till late into  the night, which seldom happens! File after file, one line of code after the other fell in place. Chanced discoveries, things adding up and decrease in compilation errors kept my spirits high as I struggled on. And on one fine Saturday morning, IT COMPILED!!! A burst of joy and sense of accomplishment forced my limbs into a unique display of unsynchronized art form evolved from an assortment of west african tribal dances, thankfully within the confines of my room!!!

The subsequent project meeting saw me wearing my nose on the peak of my head as I proudly presented the outcome of my toil. The Prof's pat on the back was a bonus, I was genuinely pleased with my performance. Frankly, still quite a bit remains undone in our project, some code still doesn't compile, some tests still don't successfully run and some documents remain to be updated. Whether the Copter will really fly is to be tested out and there is a good chance it never will! However, I am pretty confident, for the Copter, having come so far, sky is the only limit!

Corporate Lunch

I can't really say, if it was the hungriest I have been, as I am very hungry very often! To break my routine of carrying packed lunch to office, I decided to try out the company canteen for a change. After losing my way a couple of times in the large campus at Feuerbach, I finally tailed a large bunch of 'corporates' heading towards the common destination, greeting the passing colleagues with a 'Mahlzeit!' (Lunch time!).

At the reception, the security guard eyed the 'hungry looking' Indian suspiciously. I quickly took the cue and flashed my company ID card proudly and marched on! The huge canteen seemed capable of feeding a small village. The assembly line of the 'feeding system' took in a steady flow of diners at one end and let out full ones at the other, pretty efficiently at that. Before falling in line, I tried to make sense of the menu put up at the entrance. But my above-average german skills came to no avail, as the hi-fi names of the day's specials left me clueless with regard to avoiding beef and pork on my plate! So I finally gave up and decided to resort to the embarrassing task of asking the server – “which animal is it?!” and joined the queue. But the tiny picture of cow/ pig/ chicken above the respective dishes at the buffet tables saved the day and I greedily loaded my plate with as much chicken and noodles as physics allowed!

Holding the tray, I navigated precariously through the entwine of queues, ‘chanting’ “Entschuldigung” (Excuse me) constantly! Once near the payment counters, I quickly joined a queue, a couple of people shorter than the other 3 very long ones. After what seemed like an endless wait, I finally reached the cashier, only to be informed that they accepted only cards there and the cash counter was the next one! Uttering some expletives under my breath in a south-Indian regional language, I headed to the tail of (yes, you guessed it right!) the now longest of, the even longer 4 queues. When I had almost passed out on the canteen floor, I made it past the counter responding faintly to the ‘Guten Appetit’ (wish you a good appetite) and headed to one of the few empty seats in the room.

By the time I took my seat, if not for the din from the chattering in the canteen, the others at my table could have heard the growling of my tummy like the cry of a bear! I curbed my instinct to go at the food with both hands and picked up the knife and fork. After a couple of failed attempts to grab some of those slimy flat noodles with my fork, some finally hung on. The bland stuff failed to impact my taste buds and I began to ‘indianize’ my lunch. The eyes of the german in the next seat almost watered as he watched me empty 5 sachets of black pepper onto my noodles. Now more like it. Next the chicken legs seemed to have come alive as they escaped the clutches of my cutlery leaving me clinking onto the china, raising some eyebrows around. I juggled between fork, knife and spoon till I ran out of cutlery, with success once in a while! I can’t get my head around why one has to go through this pain in the name of table manners, being blessed with these versatile hands and fingers! Especially when it comes to the likes of chicken legs! Wouldn’t we have evolved with a fork and a knife at the ends of our hands instead, if it was meant to be?! Don't you agree Mr. Darwin?! I think the west has developed so far, that it has been left far behind! At an Andra Hotel with steaming Hyderabadi Biryani on a banana leaf is the place to be when hunger strikes!

Coming back to reality, I struggled on, while pretending to feel at home! After a couple of more batches of people finishing their meal at the table and several more self conscious moments, I finally sucked in the last noodle and reluctantly decided to abandon the still promising chicken legs. So ended my little (mis)adventure into the world of corporate dining!

Moral of the story: When at a corporate lunch, pick your meal after giving a thought to how you will eat it!

THE END

The Aftershock

It seems like some time back now, and yet it was this day last month that the 28 year long wait finally came to an end for the Country of a Billion. It has taken me exactly one month to recover from the 'shock' of World Cup Victory by the Men-in-Blue! Cricket being the most widely followed 'religion' by Indians both within the borders and beyond, the telecast of our 'God', Sachin being carried around the ground on the shoulders of his elated teammates will remain in our memories for our lifetimes.

The black and white video of the smiling Kapil Dev accepting THE CUP on the balcony at Lord's always reminded me of an event of historical importance, of the likes of our Independence! It seemed 'historical', more so because it was way back, and all successive teams had failed us. Sometimes coming as close as 2003, but at times as far as 2007. Having known to 'choke' when it mattered, many a fan including the writer had lost hope of the past glory being relived.

When the 2011 edition got under way on 19th Feb, I didn't have any money on Team India. “Hope they don't do a 2007 again! At least not at home!”, I prayed. I mean, with the Asian Giants – Lankans and Paks, 4 time Champions – Aussies, though down, definitely not out and the long due Proteas in the way, a BIG WIN though very possible, seemed a long shot.

All said and done, like a true Indian, I 'bled blue'! The India matches during the weekends found me glued to my laptop switching between the live streaming channels, looking for the one with least stuck ups. As expected, the Indians beat the shit out of unheard-of teams and emerged the indisputable champions in the inconsequential games. Tight games saw them stealing a draw from the jaws of victory against the English, and the loss against the South Africans. The all too familiar trend of the 'chokers' was setting in. The knock out stage was the real test, and the overcoming of the Aussies started the actual race to fame. The Pakistan downfall was somehow inevitable, considering their past 0 – 4 record. So it was down to the mythological battle of Lanka!

April Fools Day, found the Indian gang at the local temple run by Sri Lankan immigrants. We hoped our collective prayer would appease the Heavens more than that of the Pujari!!! With hope in my heart and spirit in my soul, I got ready for the toss on the D-day. With a bowl-first, the Pundits brought down our chances to 40%! In spite of the excellent bowling and fielding performance during most of the first half, an excellent century by Jayawardane and the resulting target of 275 sent me for a lunch break with a sinking feeling in the stomach. With the early loss of Sehwag, I had had enough and switched off the telecast  and took a siesta! On resumption, Gambir and Kohlis' reconciliation was heartening. But with the subsequent fall of Kohli, fell my spirits as well. It was the dream partnership of Dhoni and Gambir that really set the stage on which they lifted the cup, and we Indians got together to watch the final few overs together. Although Gambir's unnecessary shot, threatened a twist in the tail, Captain Cool and Yuvi took us the rest of the way. The final blow into the stands sent us screaming our hearts out, hugging each other and dancing in the corridors like we may never again!

It still sometimes feels unreal. TEAM INDIA – THE WORLD CHAMPIONS!

Tight Connections

Easter weekend was travel weekend for me and a few of my Indian friends. During every other trip I feel – “Oh man! It can’t get any better than this!”, and I am soon proved wrong. The ‘foreign’ trip to Netherlands and Belgium from Germany was no different. Travel through the beautiful cities, countryside, valleys and hills was made easy and comfortable by the excellent railway network in these countries. More importantly, the Interrail and Eurail Youth Passes and the group tickets of the Deutsche Bahn - DB (German Railways) made the trip expenses fit into the small sized pockets of us students! However the ‘cheap and best’ service world famous in India, is unheard of in Europe and economy travel here comes at a price. We pay in minutes and hours.

Lately I have been forced by the Deutsche Bahn to swallow my words in an earlier post about the punctuality of the German Transport system. ‘Delayed Bahn’ seems more appropriate a full form for 'DB' now!!! A few minutes delay is common place these days, half an hour happens once in a while, a couple of hours can’t be totally ruled out and on your ‘lucky’ day, the train might just not show up!!! So you see, a tightly packed connection is surely asking for trouble. Short of choice, our travel plan to and from the German border relied on DB to have their best days then!

I bought the 'Quer Durch Das Land' ticket, literally meaning 'cross through the country'. But the important question being – how long will it take to cross?! The group ticket of 5 avails a day long travel throughout Germany in the slower regional trains at a nominal price. In addition to the regional trains being slow, like their name suggests, are limited to certain regions of the country. Which means, a travel through the country taking them usually has many change overs.

This is what the return journey from the border looked like, with change over times in brackets.

Luxembourg -> Karthaus (10 mins) -> Homburg (56 mins) -> Mannheim (10 mins) -> Heilbronn (10 mins) -> Stuttgart (29 mins) -> Esslingen (21 mins) -> St. Bernardt Eugenboltz Straße (our dormitory)!!!

More crucial than the number of changes were the 3 with 10 minutes buffer.

Fingers crossed, we boarded the across border train at Luxembourg. The Karthaus and Homburg changes passed by eventless. Murphy's law states – 'If something can go wrong, it will'! So the luxury of 56 minutes at Homburg was to be of no advantage. But then drama began! Half way to Mannheim, the driver announced at Kaiserslautern, with 12 more stations to go, that we have to make way for a faster train and the all too familiar 'Wir bitten um Entschuldigung' (We beg your pardon). And of course, the delay was approximately 10 minutes!!! The problems with missing the next connection were – 1) our last connection to our dorm was the last bus for the night, 2) one of my friends had to catch an ICE (fast train) with a reservation to Freiburg, which also had 10 minutes stop over.

So we cheered every subsequent station nervously, like the boundaries scored by Dhoni and Yuvraj during the World Cup finals! I meanwhile took the opportunity to preach some philosophy about the lack of control of humans over the happenings! (Sab maya hain!!!) The ICE guy suddenly could predict the future and his crystal balls told him that his train would also be delayed! The girls just worried and kept saying 'I hope we make it' countless number of times, breaking their nuckles! (As if the rest of us were hoping something different!) As the number of stations to Mannheim counted down, so did the minutes. After the last stop - Ludwigshafen before Mannheim, the wheels seemed to have gotten more sluggish, but so had the seconds hand of our watches. Each second seemed to last forever and our gaze toggled between our watches and the approaching station, like the spectators in a tennis match! As the train approched the platform, we could see our next train on the other side. I badly missed the manual doors of our good old Indian trains, where you can jump off at will! When the train finally halted, it was exactly time and it was upto the driver of the other train either to leave with us or without. The electric doors once shut and disabled, leave no thrill of boarding a moving train, 'Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge' style! At blinding pace the 3 of us ran carrying our huge backpacks and pulled at the door handle. Thanks heavens, the door slid open!!! Panting and laughing at same time, we found some empty seats and crashed on them, just as the train rolled out of Mannheim. An SMS a little later told me that the ICE was in fact delayed by an hour! All iz well! My friend still boasts about his perfect prediction.

The rest of the connections fell in place pretty smoothly and gave no chance for heroics (thankfully!). Although the windmills of Nederlands and the historical towns of Belgium are still fresh in my mind, the tension, the anxiety, the nervousness, the final dash and the sense of accomplishment and joy on making it into the train will remain one of the main highlights of this awesome trip.

Being Away

Away from home I mean. My home is our cosy independent house in the quiet Falnir locality of Mangalore. I spent the fond days of my childhood and adolescence in that beautiful coastal town. Pursuit of higher education and profession took me to Bangalore. Having managed quite fine during 4 years of hostel life at RVCE and the subsequent 2 years in a shared apartment during my job, interleaved with occasional visits to my aunt’s in Bangalore and monthly home visits, living away from my family is long known to me. But then, being away from my home country has definitely been new and much more challenging.

I can safely claim that we Indians have a craze for going abroad and for things which are foreign! Maybe to different extents, but it does exist. The television, the internet and our NRI relatives visiting us once a year, play their part in replacing our ignorance of the world beyond our borders with shiny glamour! Going through the drudgery of daily routine, a dream is often nurtured of someday getting a chance or being able to save enough to fly away into the land of beauty and abundance and sunshine, for a ‘foreign trip’! For some, the ‘foreign return’ uncle walking out of the airport dragging a trolley bag behind, appearing of fairer skin than when he left, sporting an accent and bringing back Nike shoes and Hershey chocolates among other gifts, is their hero! – someone who has made something of himself and in more ways than one, is going places! Well no harm done. Except that, in all this fantasy of the greener grass on the other bank, we fail to appreciate what we really have. With a classic case of – “you know the value of something only when you lose it”, I have been counting my blessings being away.

In an abundantly populated country like India, one fails to recognize the value of the people around – the family, the friends, for that matter, even strangers on the street! Something feels missing when we don't find 'our people' around anymore. Skype, facebook and gtalk with the added problem of time difference with India, are poor alternatives to personal human touch. Well I do have many friends among localites and of other nationalities. But then, the differences hinder cordial camaraderie and the few Indian friends have become fonder!

Being the food-lover that I am, the wishes of my taste buds drove me inevitably to the kitchen in Germany. Being only a beginner in partnership with a seasoned veteran, we manage above average results quite often, at times well beyond my expectations! Even then, thoughts of sungta randai (prawn curry), thallele visonu (fried fish), korri-rotti (chicken curry), pulikoddel, patrado, alsande upkari (english translation of my mom’s specialities are still unknown to google!) make the salivary glands flood my mouth! I crave for the simple pleasure of a pani puri on the street, hot mensinkai bhajji (fried chilly) with tea from a street-cart on a rainy day, roti with paneer butter masala from a highway dhabha, relishing a south indian plate meal with hands in desi style, licking last traces of chicken biryani off my fingers, and the wish-list goes on...

Europe is heaven for the passionate traveller in me. The excellent railway system, the Schengen Visa permit all over the European Union, cost benefits of the student status, planning and booking made easy by the internet – make my travel dreams a reality. Be it long distance trips or everyday commuting, comfort and speed are always on offer. And yet, the picture of the Taj Mahal or the Himalayas gives me goose-bumps, a lot remains to be explored in the sub-continent. Hanging for life on the footboard of the ever crowded local buses, feeling the wind sitting at the door of a moving train, the loud tea and snack sellers doing their rounds in trains, fighting with the auto rickshaw driver over 50 paise, paying the goods train driver to let us ride in the engine, taking a lift from a scooter-fellow?! - it happens only in India!

In all, the transition from a world where disorder is the rule and order is an exception to one where the order is the rule and disorder, an exception is very drastic. Be it something from a social setting like family gatherings, weddings, festival celebrations and visits to relatives’, to anything as random as the busy streets, the traffic jams, the loud honks, the crowded markets, the barking dogs – the confusion, the imperfection, the colour, the noise of it all when suddenly replaced by endless calm, order and silence, can drive one nuts in no time! At times, this silence is deafeningly loud!!! 

These are the times when listening to songs like “Yeh joh des hai mera” from Swades and “Maa” from Taareh Zameen Par make the eyes moist. I remember the times when I used to travel home overnight from Bangalore and reach early at dawn. My mom would open the door for me rubbing her eyes and ask me – “how was your journey?” with joy in her eyes. I am dying to see the same joyous eyes again, to enjoy my mom’s cooking at our dining table with my family, to feel the coastal breeze hit my face as I ride my dad’s bike around the town, to walk bare-feet on the sand by the water at Panambur beach by the sunset, to relish the Pabbas special icecream. No matter where I go, don't think I will ever find a place like home!

The Bitter Half

“The easiest way to start a conversation with a german is to broach the topic of the weather” – the trainer in an Intercultural Seminar back in India had told us. And I wondered why! Having lived most my life in Mangalore, the coastal weather offered seldom enough variety to start a conversation about it. Throughout the year, it either rains (like crazy!) or it’s hot (again… like crazy!). But during these 6 months in Germany, I have experience enough of the weather to write one post about it at least.

Coming from the tropics, I could most simply say – Germany is a cold country. Or rather that’s the only kind of weather I have experienced here as yet, having landed here is September at the onset of Herbst (Autumn). Getting out of the airport at Frankfurt, the air had felt noticeably cold. But now having experienced the chills of winter, I miss those 'warm' old autumn days!

Autumn was just like I had seen in the movies. One tree after the other along my daily path turned from green to red to orange to yellow to brown in a matter of weeks before all the leaves sadly withered away. Many of us leveraged the colour of the season in the background of our single pictures for the matrimonials! It was the last vestige of colour that nature would offer us for a while, for winter was soon at our doors.

My first time experience with snowfall was memorable. The cute cotton flakes descending in slow motion and causing a tingling sensation on my face was an endearing experience. Overnight, the dull and gloomy surroundings of late autumn had turned into a white fairy land. The mountains behind my dorm, the houses in the neighbourhood, the bald trees, the streets and the pavements had been white washed! Esslingen was a different town altogether! The discharge of my camera batteries sadly put an end to my clicking spree and I joined the snow-ball battles of thrilled first-timers! The veteran germans held back and watched us shaking their heads as if to say – “this always happens the first time!".

But after a few times, it is not much fun anymore, rather a nuisance. Now I prefer to enjoy snowfall on the mountains from the window of my cosy and warm 8th floor room! The delayed trains, the slippery roads, the numb hands, the barren and gloomy days, the longing for sunshine, being under house-arrest for months at a stretch are too high a price to pay to witness the spectacle of the Christmas season. A bigger inconvenience for me is having to put on my entire wardrobe at the same time to save myself from freezing into a snow man! On the coldest day, I can be seen carrying around a considerable percentage of my bodyweight in thermals + normal wear + sweater + jacket + winter boots + muffler + skull cap + gloves!!! If you thought keeping myself warm is the only challenge, I need to strip down to decency to save myself from getting cooked once I enter the heated buildings! Apart from the unfriendly climate in general during these seasons, what's a bigger pain is the drastic change in weather over a matter of days. The temperature has dropped from +10 to -10°C in a couple of days, a gloomy cloudy day has changed to a sunny day in a matter of hours, dry surroundings at night have been snow covered in the morning. My poor Indian body must be shocked by the thermal stress testing day in and day out!

The climate in general, but the weather in particular influences the life and habits of people in Germany to a great extent. People have high respect for time and plan their days and months meticulously. Among others, vacations are planned and bookings made months in advance. Weather forecast websites are used almost as often as Google! Once here, the weather tends to become a crucial part of our routines, whether we like it or not.

A common observation by most Indians of Germans is that they are ‘cold’ and emotionless. I often wonder if this unfriendly climate here has something to do with it. Apart from the physical effects, the influence of winter on my mood and mind was very prominent. A few weeks into winter, the gloomy, cloudy and barren sights around began to get on my nerves! Weeks at a stretch without a trace of sunlight was one of my most depressing experiences ever! Those in India, better thank the heavens with a Suryanamaskara first thing tomorrow morning! To empathize, imagine the earth coming to a halt around dusk, when its neither day nor night and remaining so for a couple of months! That’s winter at its worst for you. 

But then the earth revolves on! One who is willing to bear the darkness of the night will be rewarded with the light of the day. Summer is around the corner! The sun is back from his long vacation! The trees are going to come to life again! Enough of black and white, lets have some colour! Time to forget about the winter, pack our bags and hit the road! But watch out! Half a year of joy is going to run you over!

A Few Paces Short

The semester break has finally given me the time to share this post with you. Its not the typical 'Happy Ending' kind of a story! But happens to be one of the most exciting and worthwhile experiences I have ever had.

Background: Siemens Master Program is an esteemed scholarship program which besides financing the tuition fees and living expenses of the successful candidates, opens doors to future career opportunities at the MNC. My online application and a telephonic interview in german had in their words, "made them curious about me"! The email went on to offer a whole day evaluation session, THE GRAND FINALE, the last hurdle towards glory! To add to the excitement, the proposed date was in between my semester exams! Putting the subsequent Math paper on the line, I decided to go. 

Having taken my first exam in Germany, I boarded the train for Erlangen. The 3 hour journey was not to be uneventful. One of the connections happened to be my first time experience in an ICE – Inter City Express (the fast german train). As I settled in my seat, looking around awed like a girl in a barbie store, here comes a (not-so) friendly neighbourhood cop! Like others of his lot, his hobby apparently was admiring the passports of the 'not german looking' people! My heart skipped a beat as I realized I was not carrying mine! Luckily a copy lying in my wallet would do. After some exchange of rapid german over the phone, he seemed satisfied and moved on in his beat mumbling some feigned courtesies. Once at Erlangen, I got off at a bus stop too soon! With directions from a chanced passerby on the deserted streets, I took a long evening walk to my hotel.

A shock awaited me at the reception desk. The booking had been made by someone from Siemens and I conveniently assumed that it was already paid for. But the lovely blond receptionist handing me the 100 Euro bill politely rubbished my understanding! I would of course be reimbursed for it later, but had to pay NOW. To my embarrassment my credit card was enjoying the warmth of my cupboard back in my dorm and I was of course not carrying that much in cash. Thankfully my sub-continent appearance and pitiable desperation won her sympathy! She agreed to let me crash for the night, when I promised to jog to the nearest ATM first thing in the morning. With the exhaustion of the exam, the journey and the series of unexpected occurrences, I hit the (very expensive) sack after a quick packed dinner.

At 4:00 am in sleep, a frightening question arose in my mind. What the **** is my debit card pin code???!!! I could recall all 4 digits, but could not remember the right order! Is it Dyslexia what they call it?! The rest of the night was spent in a mental game of “guess the right order”!!! Man!!! Does shit happen at times or what! Around 6:00 am I remembered that I had left my room keys with a friend! Feeling groggy from the lack of sleep, I recovered the pin and hurried to the nearest ATM in the biting cold of the dawn. After grudgingly paying an exorbitant fee for withdrawing from a different bank, I picked up some Bambergers (a bakery product) and walked back to the hotel.

In all this mess, I had not given enough thought to what I had gone through all the trouble for. I had a god damned whole day of interviews and assessments to follow!!! Pushing aside these frustrations and ever haunting thoughts of the coming Math exam, I pulled myself together and tried to prepare myself mentally for the task at hand. When it was time, I hastily downed the Bambergers, having decided against the hotel breakfast – a luxury I could ill afford (remember what the stay is costing me?!) I packed up and proceeded to the reception desk to pay and check out, only to discover to my dismay that breakfast was included in my bill, whether I ate or not! Having neither the mood nor the time to eat now, I completed the formalities and headed out.

Competing with thoughts of exams, cops and breakfast, I struggled to make room for the INTERVIEW in my mind, as I walked to the Assessment Center. I was one of the 6 to be assessed on D-DAY. Talking to my competitors I felt overwhelmed by their backgrounds, exposure and experience. I felt a rush of pride flow through my veins as the realization of the level at which I was competing sank into me. I was one among 54 finalists selected from all over the world, but only 30 among us would take away the honours! I was relieved of the earlier pressure and tension as I made up my mind to give it my all and leave the rest to the unknown! Burdens feel so much lighter when one accepts that some things are out of one's control! After some introductions and refreshments, we embarked upon our schedule for the day. As the ball was set rolling, each new activity brought a different challenge, ranging from personal interview to activities in pairs to group tasks. Every facet of one's personality and capability was put to the test. I managed to better my performance with every subsequent round and carried my accumulated confidence to the next. At the end of it, out of the 6 activities, I was able to excel at 4, but was found wanting at 2 due to my non-native german language skills. Needless to mention, most of the assessment was in german! At the end of it all, I took the train back home, an exhausted but satisfied chap. There was hardly the time to be spent on the day's analysis. The Math challenge was to encountered next!

The day before my last exam, the result reached my inbox. I had NOT made it. I was disappointed. I really felt that my performance had been worthy of the accolades. Guess it had not been my lucky couple of days to begin with! All the same, life goes on or at least the exam the next day would go on as per schedule! So pushing aside the story for my blog, I said "Hello" to the next chapter!

From all this, I learnt to enjoy the race as much as the victory. Although I couldn't make it to the finish line that day, I grew stronger to run another race another day.