message in a bottle (02.2003 - 09.2008)

I stared at my wristwatch that struck quarter to ten as I stepped off the train. "I am going to be late," I thought miserably. As I made my way to the taxi stand, I noticed a long queue of passengers and a non-existent one of cabs. I sighed and counted that I was tenth in the row. The rain continued to pour down with all earnestness and all eyes were on the passing cabs. Time crawled. I waited. After a good fifteen minutes wait, I found myself at the front of the still very long queue. Finally, irritated at this unhappy beginning of my day, I ducked to get into my cab and muttered my destination without looking up.

As I adjusted my seatbelt, I heard “Achha.”
My head jerked up and lips curled in a surprised smile. In the rear view mirror, I could see a middle-aged happy Chinese face. “Namaste,” it said.
“Namaste!” I responded smiling wider this time.
“Kahana jaoo ge?” he was grinning this time because he already knew my destination.
“Where did you learn such good Hindi?” I asked extremely impressed by his pronunciation.
“From my ex girlfriend who was from India.” He quipped happily. “But my Tamilian girlfriend does not teach me any Tamil.” With this, he launched into a full-fledged conversation about how the young kids speak Singlish, which he does not approve of and insists on speaking proper English.

He then questioned me about India and had me flabbergasted. Unlike most other people, his knowledge was not limited to Delhi, Mumbai, and Chennai. He told me how he wants to go to Goa, Assam, Sikkim, Hyderabad, and Jodhpur. However, he would not even think of driving in Mumbai, especially during lunch hours. “What is special about the lunch hour?” I ask “The dabba-walas!” he tells me, probably chiding me for my ignorance in his head but aloud he continued to tell me about how the travel agents only want him to see Delhi and Taj Mehal, not good enough for him.

The eight-minute drive to work was too short but it did a wonderful job of lifting my spirits and as I paid him the fare and got out, “Thank you,” I said. “It was great talking to you.”

“Thanks. Can you see why I have many girlfriends?” he smiled, his wrinkled eyes twinkling.

I wish I could be like him and spread joy so effortlessly.

Note to Self: Flag down cab number SH 7551M wherever you see it.

Eating lunch has become an adventure ever since I moved countries. Happily, it is usually an exciting adventure unless it is a Tuesday. On Tuesdays, I eat vegetarian food. Now, going by the variety of veggies I see in the grocery stores, getting some vegetarian grub should not be a trouble at all. So why is that I have to struggle every Tuesday and discover places like the cafeteria of S.P. Jain Institute of Management Studies to have lunch?

Because it is the definition of vegetarian food which is amiss. When a Singaporean says vegetarian food, it means food with lots of veggies, along with the meat. So, the Vegetarian Rice counter in my local food court specializes in fish head curry, with loads of veggies on the side. It is very amusing, really. I have colleagues who often want to know what all is included in vegetarian food – “Is fish vegetarian?”  “And eggs?” “What about cheese?” Many believe that if it is not beef or pork, it is vegetarian. Now, they are not wrong. Well, they are wrong but it is not their fault. I remember that during my visit to Phuket, the guide had explained that hey had two kinds of food for us – regular and vegetarian.

Despite these varied definitions, I notice that 80% of Indians in Singapore are vegetarians, which is a big mystery to me. Back home, I am usually the only person lining up for vegetarian food, with at most two to give me company in a group of ten. In the same fashion, I notice that 80% of Indian women dress up in traditional clothes here, while the figure drops hugely back home. I am wondering aloud, in case you have any idea.

I have a tendency to crib about small things without paying any special attention to my words. I cannot remember clearly but I am sure this is what must have happened a month or so ago.

I returned from my workplace in Hyderabad, which is very conveniently located only 2.5 km from my extremely comfortable house. I picked up some veggies to go with the pasta I planned to cook for dinner. An hour later the husband walks in and we sit down with a tall glass of juice each and discuss which movie we want to watch tonight. Somewhere in between the movie, the pasta, and the time for bed, I go "my life is so mundane. I wake up, go to work, come home, play a game, and sleep. Then I start all over again."

The husband must not have paid attention to this meaningless crib but someone else did. He who knows it all decided to give me a taste of a non-mundane life. Yes, this is what must have happened to my extremely comfortable and predictable life until last month.

In less than fifteen days, I wrapped up my life from Hyderabad, said my b-byes and flew to Delhi. In Delhi, I packed some more, said hurried b-byes to some more friends, discussed life and priorities with family and my boss and then flew to Singapore. Once here, it took exactly five hours for my Singapore-is-a-fun-city bubble to burst. The city is still what it was eight months back when I first visited it but my perspective has changed. Then, I was a happy tourist willing to spend my dollars on awesome toys, comics, books, and oh-so-hot dresses. Now, I am a lost soul searching for a house and a job in a foreign land. Yes, this is what you get for speaking without paying attention to your words.

Life is not bad right now. In fact, at the moment, it is pretty good. We have been put up in a very fancy service apartment, which is bang in the middle of the most happening section of the city. I begin my mornings with a swim in the wonderful pool surrounded by palm trees and yellow umbrellas. I sit in Starbucks and make posts on LJ during the day. I walk around soaking in a very different culture. I marvel the joys (and disappointments?) of this materialistic world of shopping malls. But in between these activities, I contact a thousand agents to fix up viewings for a house to be rented, research the job market of Singapore, and worry. A lot.

But this time, I know better than to crib. :)

I am now in a huge shopping mall of a city, where people do not believe in laughing much. Yes, I am not kidding you. I have been here four days and I have not seen a single person on the road smiling. That has to be odd, right? I mean you have bags full of goodies from Prada and Gucci in your hands, did that purchase not make you happy at all?

Singapore - a city I had fallen in love with instantly when I came here on a short trip last year. It is amazingly clean, there is rain all the time, has disciplined  traffic, is extremely fashionable and super cosmopolitan, also has a beach! But this time it was different. Let me begin from the beginning.

So I toppled and slept in the flight after a drink of Bailey's Irish Cream and when I woke up the hostess was already collecting stuff and readying us for the landing, so far so good. After landing, like a couple of headless chickens, we hurried to the currency conversion counter and got a pre-paid card for the phone -- folks to be called up immediately as per orders. By the time we made our way to the conveyer belt to collect our luggage, everyone else had already cleared up. So we picked our suitcases and headed out. The apartment turned out to be a good twenty - thirty minutes drive from the airport. We checked in and I jumped around in glee on seeing the luxuries that welcomed me for the next one month. I knew I would ultimately find something to worry about even in this duration but right now, I was happy. The bubble lasted exactly thirty-seconds and then our luggage came up. Only one of the suitcases was not ours. I freaked. The husband freaked. Called up the airlines and headed back to the airport. After a good ten minutes of "what next?" we bumped into the party who had picked up our luggage by mistake. Exactly similar suitcases, what are the chances? Pretty high, considering this has happened to me once before as well.

Since then I have been roaming the streets in awe of ultra slim girls with flawless skin who never show a hint of a smile. I like what I see but I have a strong feeling that there is a lot still hidden from me. This city is definitely not as embracing as the last one was, but I am hoping I will warm up to it somehow. After all, it does drizzle all the time here and there is this fantastic pool in the apatements. I should go out buy myself a swimsuit now. I promise to keep you posted about my explorations and adventures with food.