Two hours in Philly

Okay, what would you do if you had two hours in the downtown area of a massive city like Philadelphia if you were driving a Chrysler 300 (look up the size of the car if you have no clue about it).

(1) Smash your head against the wall for being a retard. There is no space to park. Ever! Or at least until the next step takes place.

(2) After performing the aforesaid (everything prior to the exclamation mark), find parking.


(3) If you have managed to perform the parking-finding action, congratulate yourself. You have achieved the absolute impossible! One thing though; more often than not, this spot that you find might have an attendant, who will look shady to you, and will ask you for your keys so that he can park your car. You have no choice but to trust him. Good luck!


(4) Walk around the streets of Downtown Philly. They're awesome. Almost as awesome as those in SF, CA. A million parking-spots will also materialize in front of you. Automagically!!

(5) Walk in to some random stores for no reason at all. That's the best, I tell you. 'Cause you might spend money even if you window-shop...

(6) There are no Starbucks in Downtown Philly for some odd reason. Well, I'm lying my buttocks off. In the 10-12 streets that I crossed, there were more than 20 Starbucks. You walk a 100ft and you find a Starbucks. All have the same menus as the one on Tech Square, Atlanta, GA. All the Starbucks I came across in Philly were full of customers btw. Don't ask why. I was as confused as you will be. In fact, it still does not make any sense to me. :S

(7) Walk some more through the alleys and "gully-alleys" in the area. Do this during the day, of course. Unless you have a death-wish. I did this during broad-daylight. Tendulkar has, after all, yet to retire, right?

(8) If you are a meat-lover, grab a Philly Cheese Steak. They're supposed to be absolutely to die for.

(9) Go find the lot where your car is well-hidden. Hope that it's still there. The ar, i.e.

(10) Congrats, you have found your car. It still has the radio in it. Drive around a bit during peak hour traffic. If you're as Indian as I am, you'll absolutely love it!!!

(11) Go to Liberty Bell and Independence Hall. You have about 30min remaining, and therefore, no time to stand in a 3-hour line. Yes, my Masters in ECE at Georgia Tech is worth something! Woohoo! Drive around these areas. You will be able to see the Bell through a glass-window. That's the max you'll get. If you are luckier than i am, you will find that the Hall is not under renovation.

(12) Drive around some more.

(13) Lucky number 13. Catch I-95S to the International Airport. Give back your extremely fuel-efficient and parking-efficient Chrysler 300 at Enterprise.

You will want more of Downtown Philly once you're done with this 2-hour tour.

It was like San Francisco almost.

Only that, it was 2-hours and not 2-days.

Oh well.

One more down.

Many more to go.

A month of unity....

All,

It has been an eventful month since my previous ranting. In that post, I had tried to put into context the purpose of individual votes adding up to something meaningful, something that can force our corrupt leaders out and bring in fresh minds to drive our country forward. I certainly have not been the first one to say those words, and I certainly will not be the last.

I do not want to say too much on the obvious "awesomeness" that Hazare possesses, but I do want to highlight the unity he has suddenly created in the country. He has single-handedly achieved something that Indians have been craving for six decades in the post-Mahatma era. He has certainly played his part in ensuring that democracy continues to live in India, something that I had tried to state in my previous post as well - democracy is literally the sole way of bringing our country out of the dark period of corruption that we have seen in the past 12-months.


Apart from the Hazare movement, 28 years of World Cup misery were finally put to rest in Mumbai a couple of weeks back. At the same time, it was also the perfect setting for Tendulkar, who finally received the Winners' medal instead of a Man of the Series or a Runners' Up medal. It ended up becoming one of those things that brought the country together - just hope we do not have to wait another 28 years for such an event to take place again!! As C. P. Surendran spoke of Tendulkar way back in 1998, "Batsmen walk out into the middle alone. Not Tendulkar. Every time Tendulkar walks to the crease, a whole nation, tatters and all, marches with him to the battle arena. A pauper people pleading for relief, remission from the lifelong anxiety of being Indian, by joining in spirit their visored saviour."

The past month has shown that given the right stimulus, this country still unites without thinking twice. Imagine if such unity is seen more often, especially if it comes against those danged politicians! If only we did not need a 72-year-old fasting unto death or a 38-year-old walking in to a cricket field relentlessly for 21+ years in order for such unity to happen, life in India would be much, much, much easier... If only...


Sidenote: With every Hazare and Tendulkar, and I will digress a wee bit from the purpose of this post, we also have those who show up in public in order to stoke their egos and increase TV-coverage. Take for instance, everyone from the film industry supporting the Hazare-movement while they discreetly (or not-so-discreetly maybe?) make "black money" from movies and real-estate projects. Or take for instance, the Sonia and Rahul (I will NOT use their entire name, as using it just tarnishes the word "Gandhi") duo showing up in the World Cup as part of the "aam aadmi". Please don't fool us, I bet you were surrounded by under-cover and under-paid cops.

Why the f*** should I vote?

All,

Rs. 10crore for a vote in the Lok Sabha. This, under the watch of someone I have long respected, admired and looked up to as probably our sole saving grace of our political system.

I forgave him when no action was taken against Mayawati when she built umpteen statues of herself and her guru, each costing more than a few crores of rupees.

I forgave him when "Spectrum Raja" cost the ex-chequer more than a few thousand crores by selling spectrum at low costs.

I forgave him when an ex-IAF officer shamed what should have been our crowning moment in world sports when he took kick-backs during the Commonwealth Games.

I forgave him when he looked on benignly when the Adarsh Nagar scam was taking shape with the help of men from the army and the political system.

I forgave him, for each of these and many more.

It does not matter whether Wikileaks is right or wrong.

It does not matter that the Opposition themselves might be even more corrupt than the Ruling Party, but has suddenly developed a halo during these dark hours.

Why does it not matter, one might ask.

It does not, because we are the cause of this.

Yes, us. The Citizens of India.

India is the largest democracy in the world, we all know that.

An electorate of 714 million.

The largest democratic election in the world.

How many eventually turned up? A mere 57%. 407million.

Why the f*** should I vote?

What is 1 vote amongst 407million going to change?

That is exactly what the most of the remaining 307million citizens would have thought.

This past decade has seen Mumbai torn by at least two major terrorist attacks. Post every attack, televisions and newspapers were filled with calls for the heads of the politicians. Rallies were organized in order to force the government into taking action against those that had previously shown inaction. Come election day, only 44% turned up to cast their vote. Less than 40% of the elitist South Mumbai population turned up.

The reason? 35 degrees Celsius.

Put Sachin Tendulkar (who incidentally stands in line and votes in every election) in Wankhede, and you will see a million people stand in line on Marine Drive - even if the mercury touches 40C.

Similarly, Delhi. 52%.


Nagaland. Amongst the more backward states in the country. Voter turn-out: Close to 90%.

Assam. 70%.

For all those who wonder why Manmohan Singh has been voted in, ask the 70% who got their votes to count.

I know there will be a number of readers (I have very few, but most of them) will point out that percentages do not mean much given the sparse density of population in these regions. But these are the places where a lot of our politicians get voted from.

In spite of my hatred of classifying people into "classes", I will grit my teeth and proceed. A large percentage (there's the percentage word again) of the electorate is poor, illiterate and easily gullible. This is the vote-bank that the politicians target - something that we, the so-called educated citizens, are aware of. Do we not keep complaining against the the rise in number of slums in our beloved city, Mumbai? The city that we feel is being raped and plundered by the politicians. However, being educated, we seem to find ourselves to elitist to vote. And then we crib against the politicians elected.

To those who ask whom to vote when everyone is corrupt - you can register your vote without actually voting for one scoundrel or the other. People have done that. In spite of the Government not allowing a "protest vote" as part of the ballot entry, people have ensured that their vote has been counted WITHOUT voting for the arch-scoundrel standing in his/her constituency.


This boils down once again to that question - why should I vote? There are enough and more reasons why. We complain against these politicians, right? We do this even though we have not been part of the electoral process. We do this even though we have not exercised the Right to Vote - the Right that millions across the world crave for. It is the One Right that these millions wish they had, in order to shout out loud that they want change. We have been bestowed with that Right by the Constitution of India. We have the Right to Vote.


Any so-called Citizen of India who has not cast his ballot has absolutely NO F***ING right to complain against the rascals in the Government. The Right to raise your voice against the ruling party is a Fundamental one, but it is accompanied by a Fundamental Duty - and that Duty is to vote. There is no purpose in being a democratic country if its Citizens do not exercise this Right.


It is the apathetic elite class that has allowed this raping and plundering of the Motherland. Who are they to blame the Rajas and the Mamatas if they have not cast their ballot, and in fact, have more than likely been an integral part of this ring of corruption.

We ask for Raja's head, but why not those Loop Mobiles and the Tatas who have shamelessly been a part of this? Did they not benefit equally (if not more) as Raja in the  2G scam? Why blame the politicians who have  been elected through a process that we refuse to be a part of? What message are we giving those who will be eligible to cast their vote in 2013?


It is up to us to make a new beginning. We have slept too long while our so-called-elected leaders looted the land. It is time to wake up...


Regards,
Aditya.

There is only One City...

All,

Having justly received ordinary reviews for my previous post, I write to you once more with a marginally better, but an oft-repeated topic in mind. This topic came to when I was watching a certain movie on the city that I call my hometown. Most certainly, my family comes from Chennai, but my hometown is a metropolitan that I share with 14million relatives. All packed in to a mere 169 sq mi.

It is one of the fastest moving cities in the world, a city that that does not sleep or relax. A city where every day is a race and not your usual morning walk. A city that offers possibly the best public transport system in India in spite of being woefully inadequate for the population that makes daily use of it. A city where traveling in the ladies' compartment requires you to be a ladki but does not need you to be a mard to travel in the general compartment. A city where at times the fastest and safest mode of transportation is walking or cycling. A city where covering 10km can take close to 1hr 30min, a journey that millions take daily to reach their goals, their ambitions, their dreams.

It is a city where your breakfast costs Rs. 5 (vada paav or samosa paav for e.g.), your lunch costs Rs. 10 (masala paav for e.g.) and your dinner costs Rs. 10 (paav bhaajii for e.g.) in spite of the inflation in food prices. A city that offers food that will test the strength of your stomach, while providing you delicacies that can be found in the nookest of corners. A city where hot meals arrive at your doorstep through a network of dabbawalas who, barely literate, use a fool-proof, Harvard-case-studied color combination that is respected by even the Crown Prince of England. A city where even major American fast-food chains such as Subway and McDonalds' deliver food to your homes for free.

It is a city where the stock exchange opened the day after terrorist attacks on it in 1993. A city where close to 900 lost their lives in communal rioting in 1993, but yet the same involved live in peace today. A city where the lifeline AKA local trains was bombed one day and yet resumed its regular timetable the very next morning at 4am. A city that was brought down to its knees in 2008, but yet woke up to resume its daily frenetic pace in defiance to the atrocities committed over the previous three days against amongst its two most prized possessions - Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus and The Taj Mahal Palace.

It is a city where every day you meet someone new, but yet is connected to you in some way or the other. A city where you know the bhaaji-wali's entire family history, yet might never know her full-name. A city where your next door neighbor literally lives about 5m away from you, and you can hear pretty much everything that goes on in their house. A city where you know enough about the rickshaw-wala in one ride to agree to exchange cellphone numbers (remember, that guy might have a jazzier phone that yours) in order to arrange for pick-ups and drop-offs everyday.

It is a city where jokes are classified as veg and non-veg. A city where you find more college students at a dhabeli stall than in their classes. A city where you graduate from high-school to junior-college before going to college where the one thing that occupies your mind more than finding chikna items is earning money. A city where the average student spends more on tuitions than he spends on school and college. A city where the average student spends 2hrs daily commuting, but yet finds time to play cricket in a tiny gully behind the 1-BHK apartment complex that he lives in with his parents.

It is a city where if you have lived there once, you can never live anywhere else in the world. A city that physically taxes you but emotionally comforts you daily. A city where one man is revered as God one day and is booed off the next day for poor performance. A city that possesses the Queen's Necklace. A city where the rich live in "town". A city that has everything but yet does not bat an eyelid before giving it all up for its citizens.

This is where I come from.

This is where I shall return.

This is where I shall remain.

Till the very end.

After a month-long hiatus...

All,

A month and five days have passed since my last offering. I have been compelled to publish something new on my blog after Pooja's earnest request to me to be my "overtly scathing nonetheless cocky" self. While I would like to think of myself as something entirely different, understandably I would be lying out my skin. However, before I become such an abomination, I would like to apologize profusely for the absence of providing my readers with any new "whining offerings" as they have probably become quite accustomed to reading on my blogpost.

A few things have changed since my last post, way back on the 25th day of January. Work has started in full-swing. Made me almost feel responsible. More than likely that none of my readers would have expected this from me. All the same, I certainly feel quite old. Close to five weeks of work has finally brought out the adult that was so well-hidden in me for close to five years.

Significantly, I have had the wonderful opportunity to live without Internet (yes, no Internet in the 21st century in the US of A) for close to 3 weeks at my new apartment (my first one at that).

When I started this post, I had no real topic in mind. I was told to provide you with words on my "loneliness, change in attitude to life and reduction in my obnoxiousness". However, as many of you would attest, I have had none of these profound changes in life. I still remain quite happy with my single-bed apartment with no roommate. I still retain a very positive outlook to life. Importantly, I still remain as obnoxious as ever - in fact, I may have reached a level of cockiness I have never reached before.


Seeing that even the suggested topic has been mooted, I will revert to bashing the quality of customer service (or the lack thereof) from AT&T. Consider that, at one stage, I was down $200, had a DSL wireless gateway in an apartment that apparently could only receive U-Verse and two orders that were cancelled without my knowledge. It took me a two-hour verbal shouting match with the AT&T support line to get the connection switched to U-Verse for free with a free modem/wireless-gateway. All this took a ridiculous 23 days to get organized. Ah, I never faced this problem EVEN in the bureaucracy that is India.


Apart from the lack of Internet connection, I have a wonderful time enjoying the freedom that a single BHK apartment provides. No, I do NOT have any naked Thursdays (refer Friends Season 8), nor do I have naked any-other-days.But I do have ample amount of space and a lot of time to myself. By "a lot of time", I merely mean the evenings after work and weekends. After all, I am a working professional now. No more a student with infinite free time. Coming from a student of Tech, I must really miss school life to actually recount the infinite free time that Tech used to regularly provide us!!


Enough pointless rambling. I am certain this post was pretty shabbily done. I felt it so. Need a better topic for next time. I believe they call it "writers' block"?? Am I a writer after a mere four ordinary blogs? I wonder...


Best regards,
AGS

In love with San Francisco

I have always disagreed with my peers at Tech that living in the US (read Atlanta as this is my primary point of reference) can get boring for people from vibrant cities like Mumbai or Bengaluru or Chennai. Ignorance is bliss. Enlightenment came in the form of San Francisco.

I spent a total of 30 waking hours in the city. During this period, I was able to visit the Golden Gate Bridge (obviously), Fisherman's Wharf, Ghirardelli Square, Crooked Street, Golden Gate Park, Ocean Beach, Alcatraz Prison as well as eat at a Vietnamese, an Italian, a Mexican and a "garlic" restaurant for lunch/dinner. All using a combination of an awesome public transport network and long walks.

Hear ye, o tourists to SF:

1. Try visiting SF on a non-foggy day. Understandably, this is bloody difficult considering SF is known for the fog. 
2. Use public transport only to get to the general area of visitation - it is infinitely better to walk through the streets of SF in spite of gradients reaching up to 70 degrees as this allows you to actually feel the vibe of the city. Plus, in most cases, you save a lot of time this way.
3. Being a vegetarian, I was unable to "pig out" in Little China. However, for ones willing to experiment with their food, this is probably the proverbial "heaven on earth". Apart from Little China, go to "Stinking Rose" without fail. Anyone who does not go to this place has not seen San Francisco at all!!! Note that, you must take your own breath-mints to this restaurant, as the ones that you are given at the end of your meal there is woefully inadequate (check out http://www.thestinkingrose.com). You are bound to have the opportunity to taste a million different cuisines (including Pakistani-Indian food at every second street), so always be prepared to keep your pockets a little loose and ensure that you have a cast-iron stomach. Also, "Sunflower" (the Vietnamese restaurant that I went to) is ridiculously good for food that is nowhere close to being expensive (even by student standards).
4. Make sure you spend at least an hour or so sampling the drinks and chocolates at Ghirardelli Square. I regret not doing that :(... Btw, the Gingerbread Latte is to die for...
5. Cycle (or walk) across the Golden Gate Bridge - whether or not the weather is ice-cold. It's a tremendous experience! You can rent cycles at reasonable prices almost everywhere in the city.
6. Alcatraz deserves 4hrs even though they "expect" you to finish the tour in 2hrs. And believe you me, you are actually creeped out when you "enter the 'hole' and close your eyes, imagining that you are imprisoned there". Weirdly enough, Alcatraz was apparently amongst the very few prisons (if not the only one) where the prisoners were treated extremely well, with three square meals a day apart from daily exercise and the like. You can also see a lot of the run-down structures from the movie "The Rock" starring one really bad actor, Sean Connery and Ed Harris.
7. Ocean Beach (the last station on the J line in the train system) is one spot that is generally overlooked by almost all tourists to the city. At this point, you are bang in the middle of the ruins of a salt-water spa on the Pacific Ocean next to the western edge of Golden Gate Park. It's an awesome place to be around sunset. Moreover, there is a cafe on the beachfront that offers the best Irish Coffee that I have ever had in my life.

You have 7 not-to-miss things to do and have about 24hrs to do them (with the remainder for the other touristy stuff like Fisherman's Wharf, Crooked Street, etc.)

I assure you that you will not get tired...

San Francisco will not let you get tired...

Have fun...

En Route to San Jose

I begin to write this while on an American Airlines flight to Dallas, TX. Flight took off well on time, definitely not like the flights to/from anywhere close to The Big Apple. Saw on the news that most flights (international or domestic) have been delayed for close to 9-10hrs. Kind of reminds me of my flight to Mumbai, India last year, when I had to take a connecting flight from Newark to Mumbai by Continental, but could not do so as my Atlanta-Newark flight was delayed - weirdly enough, the delay was primarily due to on-ground fog at Atlanta.

Anyway, my longish wait at the Atlanta airport provided me the opportunity to participate in a few interesting conversations with fellow travellers. I wanted to highlight a particular one with a mechanic (well, I'm certain that was NOT his rank - he just mentioned Mechanical when I asked which division) in the US Army posted in Baghdad. While I am definitely not in favor (or favour, depending on which part of the world you are reading this from) of the invasion, it was very fascinating to hear his experiences as an on-ground personnel in the region. He spoke about rockets being fired at their base in Baghdad on Christmas Eve, and nonchalantly mentioned one guy getting injured. There was no doubt in his mind that war in the region was inevitable. While there was clear happiness that he was returning to Nebraska for the holidays, there was a tinge of sadness on learning recently that he was due to return to Baghdad a day after his birthday in May.

The Atlanta-Dallas leg of my journey to San Jose was well on time, with the flight offering various comforts such as a ridiculous cost for WiFi as well as general airline discourtesy. Contrary to my expectations, the passengers were not offered any in-flight meal (read as peanuts or pretzels) along with the customary solitary beverage (Coca Cola FTW!) and ice. Luckily for me though, unlike my usual stinginess, I had purchased (it almost hurts to even type that word out) some wonderful coffee at Starbucks along with an equally wonderful banana-walnut muffin that provided me sustenance during my day of starvation.

As we were approaching Dallas, our pilot announced the various connecting flights that passengers on the Atl-Dall leg had planned on taking, and along with the flights also mentioned the various gates that connecting-passengers needed to go to. Apparently, the DFT-SJC (Dallas Fort to San Jose) flight was to depart from Gate C25, with our ATL-DFT flight arriving at Gate C27. Under normal circumstances, as a close-to-starved passenger, you would be extremely pleased to know the departing gate beforehand, as well as the bonus piece of information that you have a near-non-existent travel distance.

But lo behold!

On arriving in Dallas, I found out (much to my dismay) that my flight was not boarding anywhere close to C25. Heck, it was not even in Terminal C. I had to travel all the way up to Terminal A, Gate 20. Luckily, however, as with most airports (I'm guessing) in the US, all terminals are very well connected through a train service within the airport premises. The train in Dallas Fort is very well-organized with two trains circling the four airport terminals - one in the clockwise direction and the other in an anticlockwise one. But still, I wish I had been given fair warning from the beginning.

While waiting to board the aircraft, I received an email from my roommate, Sarath. The email merely had a subject line to it (understandably, a Bill Monk email soon followed). Electricity bill for the month of December: $430. What the f@#$???!!! That amounted to around $155 per head (including the Internet bill, of course, I'm a Georgia Tech graduate - my Math HAS to be awesome), just for the month of December. I mean, What the f@#$?! It was painful enough to go through the entire month with poor insulation and even more miserable heating, and to be saddled with a bomb for an electricity bill. Not fun. And most certainly not fun to see that before an awesome trip to California!

Armed with another muffin to provide me sustenance on a close-to-four-hour journey to San Jose, I proceeded on to the gate of departure, boarded the flight, and snoozed my way to glory. Frickin' four hours to do pretty much nothing. Apart from drink the complimentary beverage on a fairly cramped aircraft. And of course, bemoan that cursed electricity bill.

I feel I whine too much.