The Milestone of Parenthood

The scrunched-up eyes and red face was delivered into my arms and I looked at it with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Is this little mite really mine? Am I wholly going to be responsible for this helpless bundle? I am sure mothers, the world over, have gone through similar and lot more rhetoric questions at this precious moment. Nature equips us to go through all the pain and still gives us all the energy to indulge in the joy of creation that each of these children bring about.

Life is never the same after this momentous event. From a selfish, carefree and “World is my Oyster” kind of existence you are pushed into a tiring routine of cleaning, bathing and feeding.  The world now becomes an uncertain jungle. You start planning and saving. Your happiness becomes limited yet infinite at the same time! The other young but unrestricted couple look at you with pity but you look back at them with pity too!

And life goes on……

Before you realize it’s more than twenty years…. The family has grown too and the tiny mite is a young adult with a sibling who is also ready to fly! When the first one left home, it was traumatic (at least for me!) For seventeen years I had looked after, guided, advised and had gone through every physical and emotional ups and downs and now the “wicked” world would lay down an obstacle course for my ‘delicately nurtured princess’. Every time I heard of the slightest pain, I would feel like leaving everything and rushing over to take care but swallowing desire and knowing that one day she would have to be responsible for her life, I didn’t!  I feel proud of myself and especially of her as I see her manage her life and kick all the obstacles on her path.

It’s that time again now when her sibling will leave home to take up the reins of her life. I thought I am mature, having gone through all the gamut of emotions, I would (I was sure!) be a very sophisticated mother and let go with grace and dignity. In fact one mother who will be leaving her first child said, “For you it will be a cake walk, you have already let go once!” I am sure even if you have ten, letting go each time will be as difficult as the first time!

There is still time before she leaves home but the familiar emotions have started crowding in. Yes, the planning and scheduling does distract you during the day but the nights are dark and long and all the bogeys in the world come crowding in and it’s very uncomfortable.

The positive thing is this is a phase and it will get over sooner or later. Just wish its sooner than later! The whole world I feel is looking down at me with a superior smile. The older ones, having forgotten their past emotions, must be saying “Oh! It’s no great deal”, the younger ones also, in their ignorance, saying “Oh! It’s no big deal” Will I also be doing this, ten years from now? If I do, someone remind me of this blog and the superior smile will be arrested on my lips.
I must not forget to mention the fathers here. Though I have no idea what they go through but I am sure it is equally if not more stressful for them.  They have to put up ‘the stiff upper lip’ bravado and be ‘a man’ while we mothers have the luxury of giving way and being accepted as such.

 While the baby books record their milestones for posterity, there is no life book to record our milestones of parenthood! Letting go is a milestone. We cross it and rarely look back (except with affection) and go on to the next milestone.

Happy parents’ day should also be celebrated separately!

 

The windows at the RTO!

The winter sun was beating down relentlessly as I searched for a place to park the car. The huge gates leading to the RTO (Regional Transport Office to the uneducated!), was a little ajar but I knew I couldn't drive in. After asking one of the Auto drivers, I started on a road safari to find a parking place! There was no road, only a huge muddy expanse filled with derelict cars and Autos. I weaved my way in and out of any available space and found a relatively safe place to park the car. I searched minutely to find a ‘no parking’ sign but couldn't find any. Not that it gave me any comfort but bravely I went on to fight the first of many battles!

Before I go ahead with my story I need to give you some background information about what I was doing here. Two months ago the young adult in the family had a long break after her final exam and so we decided that it was time she got herself a driving license. The driving school was found and she was enrolled and soon she gave her test. Proudly she came home and said she had passed her test and the license would come in three weeks. She went off to join work and I sat waiting for it to come!

There was a complication though, right from the beginning- the address in her passport was an old one and the license would be delivered there! The driving school owner told us that it will go there and be returned, after which I could go to the RTO and pick up the returned license. Assuming this to be the gospel truth I sat tight, in short- not being proactive. When six weeks passed by, I tried to find out the status and was told (By the driving school) that the license had been delivered at the old address. I had to shake myself and make a trip to my old address.

 

I went into the familiar precincts and nostalgia washed over me as I took the lift to the eighteenth floor. I was welcomed into the house which I had once considered my own. I criticized the décor and the unnecessary clutter of the house (in my mind) and was assured by the owner that no license had been delivered and that he would let me know if and when it happened. We exchanged telephone numbers and I made a new friend!

So here I was in the wilderness of cars to find out what had really happened!

I had been advised to contact some Mr. Patil, who would help me out. After asking around where to find him I reached window no 30 (I was the proud visitor of windows 18, 21, 27, 2….)

There was a short queue and I waited patiently for my turn.

 “Mr. Patil?” I queried

 “Humph” A finger pointed at the next man.

I swivelled around, put on my most harassed and pathetic expression and started on my woeful tale. It was ruthlessly cut short ….

“Go to window 42 and get the number!”

What was one more window to weary traveller? I walked to window 42 which was miraculously empty! I peered in to see a heavily harassed young man surrounded by a cacophonous group of men who were talking all at once. My heart sank. After coming so far, I couldn't leave the battle field, could I? I straightened my back and pushed my way into the throng and stood squarely in front of the man who was peering into the PC.

Sometimes being a woman has its advantages! Amongst a group of brown and black, here I was in pink and he looked up at me. Without getting into preliminaries I thrust the paper with details at him. He took it peered at it then at his PC; scribbled a long line of numbers; thrust it back at me. “Go back to Patil”

Back to window 30, Patil scrutinized the number gravely, cleared his throat, “It has been delivered”

I said, “No it hasn't been”

“Wait, the postman who delivered it will come in twenty minutes, you can talk to him”

I hung around for twenty minutes and poked my face at the window.

“This is not an airport! Twenty minutes could mean an hour, you have to wait madam!”

By now I was jittery about my car which was parked in a no man’s land; it was hot; I was thirsty. I decided to let everyone go to hell and went home!

Two days went before I began nagging the Car school (they take a heavy fee so that they ensure that the license is received). It went on and on for almost four months- my nagging; calling up my new friend (who by the way advised me to bribe Patil!) without any avail. I was frustrated; the young adult was equally frustrated. My frustration was higher as I, on the advice of the school had registered an FIR and applied for a duplicate license after paying more!

I was always given hope that it would eventually turn up. After returning from a holiday I was back at my job of nagging the school who gave me an entirely new story! The license had never been sent! Thank God I was on the phone otherwise I would have shot the man! A new man had come to window 42 and he said that the license would “soon” be dispatched.

My second trip to the RTO did not yield anything but it was more comfortable as I got a lift there, hence no worries about my car being towed away. Window 42 was just the same scene of cacophony and chaos. But being a woman in an all-male zone I could make myself heard.

A curt, “it will take another three weeks to be delivered” and “No! We will not hand it over to you, it will be posted” was all I got for my troubles.

The waiting period began…… After three weeks the phone call to my friend and the car school began too and then I gave up! It was almost six months- nothing was going to happen! I advised Chiqui to apply for a license in her city and tried to wash my failure out with the strongest detergent possible. Enough was enough! I had lost the battle.

Was dreaming of pleasant things when the musical tinkling of my phone woke me up, it was my friend!

“Madam, I think your license has come, please come and pick it up at your convenience”

I couldn't thank him enough for bearing with my repeated phone calls. I had at least won the war!

 

 

The fairy glade

Third day in the same forest. It would get monotonous now...

Hair as black as ebony, lips as red as blood and skin as white as snow! Surrounded by little men, she walked 
like an elegant deer with her neck held high, letting the wind kiss her face. She was no Snow White with her seven dwarves, she was just a kindergarten teacher with her charge of two-year-olds!

The little children, all clad in waterproof overalls and equipped with a pail and spade instead of pick axes, stamped in all the available muddy puddles. Some of them knelt in the mud and scooped up the wet clay into their buckets and carried them to their building site to build a castle. (The Germans start as engineers from an early age!) good thing the mothers were not around- Surf or no Surf the mess these tiny tots made would turn any hausfrau's heart!

I stopped for a moment (for I had time to stand and stare) and greedily took in the video of unfettered joy into 
my subconscious. They looked at me curiously. The boldest of them walked up to me, wiped his hand on a little towel tucked in his pocket and put it out towards me. To say I was thrilled would be an understatement! My heart turned a somersault and I picked up the still dirty hand without hesitation. He talked to me in a burst of  
speech and I spoke back as if I understood everything! Then Snow White came to my rescue and spoke to me in English.

I learnt how she rescued these kids every day from 
their harassed working mothers, to let them feel the joy of freedom and allowed them to do what every child wants to do. Soon they would go back to the school and get cleaned up and be presented to their mothers, scrubbed and clean as little angels. A little drowsy and with less energy so that the mums would have time to recuperate to face another busy day at home. 
It was time to say "Auf wiedersehen" and I continued on my walk with the picture of the little ones and Snow White (her name was Anke by the way) etched in my memory. 

The woods were dark and deep. The promise of sunshine in the morning was fading fast. I had lost some time playing with the children so I increased my pace and followed a new road. This was away from the main road. Soon I was deep inside the forest. The tall trees with their leafless branches brooded over me but they were like kindly guardians rather than menacing devils. Spring was trying hard to make its presence felt. The dry stalks were pushing forth green leaf buds, the tiny grass flowers were nodding at me and though I could find no birds around, there were lovely manmade bird houses hung high on the trees ( I wonder how they reached so high on the slim trunks!) 

I walked with my head up at the sky, looking up at the interweaving arms of the branches. Occasionally a biker or a jogger would pass by, but they were in their own world and only the swish of the tires or the thump of the running feet would warn me that there was someone behind me. The absolute silence was so therapeutic that I pondered on the possibility of just sitting down on the fallen tree trunk to soak in the ambience. 

The road was never ending and I had to decide on a point to turn back. Every step I took forward, brought me 
into a microcosm of a new world- complete and perfect! My greedy parched heart did not want to miss out on any experience so I walked on.

Suddenly a shaft of sunlight cut through the darkness of the woods and streamed on a clearing in the forest. There were two beautiful black trees covered with white blossoms. The whole area was filled with dark green moss which were sprinkled with the fallen white flowers. A few magpies with their tails up in the area trilled their songs. My God! What a setting it was! I wished I was Rapunzel sleeping under the tree, letting the soft flowers caress me as I listened to the songs of the birds, maybe I would weave the flowers into my long hair! I wished there were a few rabbits peeping from their burrows to complete this picture of my fairy's glade.

My walk was now complete; the almighty had given me a perfect gift to take back for the day. It was time for 
me to go back. I took in great gulps of air as if to save this wonderful picture in my hard drive. I literally spent five complete minutes to grasp at this experience and turned back with a satiated heart and energised mind, to a life now so filled with magic. It now started to drizzle....

We all need a little bit of the fairy tale and magic to spice up our monotonous lives. The important thing is for us to realise that it is always around us and it is in our hands to scour and dig and discover the enchantment!

 

 

 

A walk in the forest.

A late, lazy breakfast- going to and fro from the buffet table, asking for omelette without bacon, sipping coffee... In short, a breakfast where I did not have to worry about the menu or it's ingredients! Naturally this led to that full feeling. The sun was peeping through the clouds, "so why not?" Said the heart to the mind and I decided to prepone my walk at twelve to ten!                                               

Put on my waterproof coat (in case it rained!), scarf, boots... Some money and my cell phone (working one) in one pocket and my normal cell which doubles as my iPod in the other with my headphones in the other pocket. Took my gloves too and walked out of the warm confines of the Hotel into the street.

The cold blast hit my face and even with my glasses to protect my eyes, they started watering! Bracing myself with bullish body language, I proceeded towards the road which would lead me to the Eilenriede forest. Two days ago I had been there and found it lovely. We had discovered a cafe which served gluhwein. I had been with Junu and hadn't actually mapped out the area in my mind. Anyway I thought I would walk till the forest cafe, treat myself, sit for some time and then walk back.

I waited at the traffic lights even though the road was empty! How impatient we are when we are at home to jump lights! Sigh! Crossed when it turned green took a picture of the majestic stag before I entered the forest. Right at the beginning, there was a fork in the path and I, like Frost took the road least travelled on. The head phones were squished into my ears; the music loop was selected and away I went. 

 There were a few mothers with prams, a couple of joggers, a group of kindergarten children with their teacher splashing into all the puddles and one single beautifully dressed woman in high boots! She looked at me suspiciously and purposely walked slowly so that I would overtake her! I did and smiled at her in amusement which she returned with a grim smile. I traipsed deeper into the forest. Two policemen (one was a woman) rode by on a pair of magnificent horses, talking nineteen to a dozen without paying any attention to me! Soon I was absolutely alone, I couldn't even hear the cars anymore. If you wanted to define blithe, you should have taken a picture of me today!

The sun was warm on my cheeks, the wind had died down and I had left civilization far behind me. The green trunked trees with their leafless branches enticed me to go forward. The little yellow, pink and white grass flowers that bedded the foot of these large deciduous trees reminded me of all the fairy tales that I had read. The only thing missing to complete the picture was the mushroom and toadstool!

I walked on. The meandering roads, the birds chirping, and the rustle of the dry leaves and scrunch of the wet leaves were my only companions. I must have walked for about forty minutes by now when I came near a dry stream way with a small wooden bridge, I tried to wrack my brains on whether I had seen this before. I decide to turn back and was met with too many forks on the road and I obviously took the wrong one! And loitered about in unknown areas. Chiqui had warned me about getting lost like Hansel and Gretel the night before... Was I lost? 

The sun hid behind a cloud, the rolling clouds brought with them wind! The wind had picked up speed; the cruel and cold thing was whipping against my legs. The nose was frozen by now; I picked up my walking speed. I wasn't exactly panicking but I was definitely worried. I shut off the music to think clearly.... I must find a main road then it's simple ...just take a taxi back to the hotel or I could phone up hubby dearest at the office and tell him I am lost in the forest and get a search party organised! But both these would smack of the failure badge so I trudged on. It was getting overcast by now, the rain was imminent and the wind had started a plaintive whine in my ears. I picked up speed. The heart was beating faster. I took off my gloves as I was feeling hot and dropped one of them too. Did not realise it for five minutes then walked back to pick it up!

There was a lovely wooden bench, I took a deep breath and sat down on it. It was now an hour after I had left. I had told Mickey I would be back in two hours so she wouldn't be expecting me now. I took deep calming breaths and took stock. Direction wise I was pretty sure that I was in the right direction for getting back I looked desperately for any kind of landmarks but there were only tall trees everywhere!

I gave myself fifteen minutes to walk on and if I couldn't find any signs I would use the phone. The jauntiness of my past one hour was missing as I plodded on determinedly ahead. Within five minutes I sighted a car and a main road. I felt secure, civilisation was back! I walked on .... In ten minutes I espied the entrance to the zoo and now I knew I was on the right track (I had taken a whole round of the huge forest!). The heart rate was now normal and all though it was dark, I was no longer feeling hot! I walked ahead and saw a ramp I had noticed the day before and soon the statue of beloved stag came into view and hey presto! Like magic, I was on home stretch :)

Those ninety minutes of my life was a small microcosm of an entire lifetime. The joy, happiness, fear and insecurity and myriad other emotions that flitted across my conscious and subconscious taught me to value every precious moment of my life. From now on I hope I am able to treat every obstacle in my life as trivial and I hope to convince myself that there is nothing such as the end of the world. I hope to go for many more such walks in my life and come out triumphant and happy.

 

 

Pause, before Valentine’s Day!

Yesterday in the newspaper, I read John McWhorter say, that it was time for the ubiquitous “Comma” to be interred! According to him there is no loss of clarity if the wee thing is murdered and buried without a befitting burial! Rage engulfed me- remembering the- ifs and buts of the use of comma that we learnt painstakingly from first grade onwards, Oh! Alas! The futile toil of almost seventeen years of formal education and even beyond!

 I am a lover of English language, not because it’s smart but because that’s the only language I know completely (as it possibly as can be). It is of course a vicious circle- I love it because I know it, I know it as I love it! It is ever engulfing, though its rules are rather atrocious, it is fluid and accepting. Over its long history, plenty of words have been welcomed and accepted by it. It will remain the language of the future and will not go the Latin or Sanskrit way. I love it as it allows me to converse with the rest of the world, albeit sometimes using my kind of sign language (which is largely gesticulating!) along with it, but I get by….

Mr. Pico Iyer has given a very interesting view about his love for the comma- he seems to be in love with it as much I am. So the poor cousin of “full stop” does have its share of fans in the world. Where would I be without its little pregnant pauses to give meaning to my private poems? Where would I be without its meaningful breaks to thrust forward my pugnacious arguments? Where would I be without its loud silences to take a break from my stream of consciousness?

 

I quite agree with him that putting the comma into an early grave will take out the romance and love from the English language. SMS and Tweets are all right in that sphere of activity but in the serious and the not so serious facets of the world, we need the softness of the “Comma” pause as opposed to the harsh “full stop”!

All this ‘love’ and ‘romance’ and softness have brought to my mind Valentine’s Day. It has been festering actually for the last one week! I get at least thirty SMS from various brands about what I can gift my Valentine, about the '50% off 'and sometimes 'up to 75% off 'on select merchandise, and not to forget the ways to send hints to my valentine for gifting ideas.

I think the first mention of this highly amorous day, in literature, was made in the fourteenth century by the father of English language Geoffrey Chaucer (Parlement of Foules -1382). It, of course, has its own little cameo in history and dates further down the line. I firmly believe it was fished out of the darkness of obscurity by the “Archie’s Greetings” as a major marketing ploy to distract the youth from their education and make their parents pay for all the vulgarly expensive gifts. How else can you explain the various “days” that are celebrated prior to the main day? The rose day, the hug day, the teddy day, the kiss day and ……. Each day has its share of cards and gifts to be bought.

The young people who are not at the receiving end are looked upon with pity and horror by the others. They go through acute depression and pangs of rejection. (Some parents are so scared that they send cards to their own children as secret admirers!) Numbers of suicide and murder cases are high during the week prior and after the ultimate day. The only positive thing about this is, hopefully it distracts the youth from indulging in marijuana (Which has been made legal in Colorado State!) and other such “elevating” experiences.

I feel a little apprehensive of the present generation. When we grew up, our crushes were private affairs. It’s not that there wasn’t romance; it was as present as it is now, only it was subtle and much more exciting (I wonder if each generation says that about their youth?) I do wonder what the excitement is in necking in public. The little exchange of glances can create a flutter in one’s heart. I do understand the high rate of divorce these days- the couples just get bored of each other. They know each other for five to six years before they marry and after that ennui sets in and it is time to part ways.

The youth argue that they are much more honest in their relationships then we were, but is that accurate and is that advisable? Romance is synonymous with mystery, if we know the ins and outs of another human being, what is the challenge to continue such an interaction? As human beings it is natural we search for new experiences, new discoveries to keep our intellects alive. The game of relationships is an interesting and time-consuming activity. It is what separates us from animals.

Love is a wonderful emotion; it’s not fair to commercialize it. Valentine’s Day or a little note to be passed during class- let us keep it on the right level; let us not put a price on a beautiful emotion and inculcate the spirit of competition in every field of our lives. Some emotions are sacred, calming, serene and healing; let us take out the knives and forks from here as there is a possibility of getting hurt.

Both the “Comma” and “Valentine’s Day” celebrate fidelity in their work sphere, one to language and one to love. Both bring a pause to their work stations in their own way. The comma gives meaning and depth to the pause, while V day suspends our minds for at least ten days. One enhances the fluid dynamics of language; the other creates questions and doubts about the devotion of our partners. Do not inter either of them, they are both necessary to our existence and bring in the spice to an otherwise humdrum and bland life.

 

 

                                                                                                          

 

Cacophonic Neighbors

 

It all started with some taps on the roof and the whirring of the drill in the upstairs flat.

We had spent one year in harmony with all our upstairs and downstairs flat occupants when our quiet neighbours vacated the flat above and went forward in their own quest to excellence. We were friendly, had visited each other’s houses once and greeted each other with a ‘hi’ in the lift whenever we met. I did miss them but their absence did not stop the cog wheels of my life from moving. They had travelled a lot and so had I, so out of the twelve months, we must have occupied our respective houses for three months at a stretch. Nevertheless we shared a maid and I knew what was happening in their house and they would know what happened in mine!

Their absence was mourned by our maid in every conversation but life went on as quietly as before, for six months. Then just before the winter vacation I was informed that some new tenants had moved in, two unmarried sisters not in their first youth! They were “Directors” – so said my maid. I did not worry- what would two middle aged female bachelors do, anyway?

The sound of the taps grew a little louder over the week. I started seeing nuts and bolts on the ceiling and small hairline cracks appearing from nowhere! Then the deluge started, the balcony would be washed and all the water, following the law of gravity would fall into mine and I would have a short circuit in my mind and yell at the poor guards. It worked for some time; the washing was done stealthily during the afternoon when I had my nap!

Then came Friday! There was lot of activity- high heels tap tapping here, there and everywhere, lots of car parked outside the building and the blaring music began at seven in the evening. I thought indulgently – House warming party- shut all the doors (thankfully it was cool) and bore through all the drums, bass and altos! Put on the fan and ac full blast to drown out the noise and fell asleep.

It’s not “all’s well that ends well here”! The same thing happened next Friday but we were leaving on our vacation the next day so I did not bother to get too paranoid. After a long, lovely vacation (I am sure you will forgive me for having forgotten the “sound blasting” neighbours) I returned to the humdrum of daily existence and soon a Friday came and with it our partying friend's out of tune songs! Then one more Friday and then we were given a reprieve of two weeks and then………

It was Tuesday, suddenly gushes of water fell outside the bathroom window but I ignored it. The moving of furniture started at about two in the afternoon. I did not pay much attention as it was a Tuesday. The day went on with the usual chores and being a cool night we had all the doors closed.

“Boom! Boom!” it started softly, but the tempo picked up, soon the whole house was vibrating with “musical noise”. It was eleven O’clock in the night! We went to bed but the clip clop of high heels coupled with furniture dragging and other strange noises made me feel that we were sleeping under a road on which horse carriages were being drawn (intermittent neighs of laughter and bellows of mirth punctured the night!)

It went from bad to worse! Normally a sound sleeper, I was wide awake and every time the beats beat the roof, my heart rate touched hundred! Irritation led to indignation to anger and then fury and I was at my wits end! I waited till twelve thirty but there was no easing of all the cacophony going on upstairs.

Furious I rang up the guard to tell them to stop it. He, poor thing, was apologetic and said he would inform them. It took another half an hour before the bass disappeared but the clip clops and the out of tune singing by varied male voices continued. It was two thirty in the night and the guys continued to sing at their worst- obviously drunk and inebriated.

The rule is, there can be no public noise after ten or eleven in the night. Even the pandals during Ganesh puja go silent but what about private houses? What rule is there for such nuisances where a few families or one family is affected? 

Mumbai is no stranger to noise. We are bombarded throughout the day with noise from the traffic and construction work, the least anyone can do is to leave us in peace during the night! Once in a while to celebrate something is OK, we are indulgent but every weekend is a little too much! Lots of criminal intentions were going through my mind as I stomped about wide awake! Is this how crimes take shape?

Will someone advise me who to contact to stop such nuisance? I do understand that we cannot stop someone from doing whatever they want in their own house but there is something called social responsibility and I hope this stops before I go nuts and blast them both verbally and physically!

I miss my old neighbours now L. How sad that we cannot choose our neighbours!

 

The Global Positioning Story

“Have you ever used GPS in your car before?” asked the ever-smiling young man at the car rental kiosk.

While the lord and master hummed and hawed, I, very confidently said, “we’ll learn”.

All of us in the family have used the GPS at one time or the other on our phones. I was sure we would work it out. Confidently we strode out and began our road trip.

The GPS on the phone is one thing and on the car is another, we soon found out! The car does not have a keypad to type in the destination; it has to be done one by one. It has a menu which is confusing and every time you make a mistake you start all over again!

Our first destination was the zoo and the kind helper at the kiosk came and taught us how to feed in the information and soon we were on the move.

Well! We reached some place but the zoo was nowhere in sight, helplessly we looked at the family IT guy, the TT*! She didn't disappoint us. Out zipped her phone and we were instructed how to reach the car park of the zoo. Turned out that the fellow had fed in the area, not the exact location of the zoo! - First lesson learned.

Soon TT got the hang of the car GPS and she was officially nominated to handle it. She had the patience and knack of managing it. Of course she threw a tantrum anytime we interfered during the process but on the whole, it was a convenient method. The young adult of the family tried her hand but was too bored to do it over and over again. We both, though not exactly technically challenged were happy to hand over the reins to the youngest in the family.

“Please move over to the left after hundred meters”, said Siri (We christened the GPS voice as Siri as that is only name, we know from our Apple products!) The accent was perfect for our Indian ears and she was a big help especially on our drives on the Autobahn. It was so simple to take the exit as she would warn us at least a kilometer in advance. If you took a wrong exit, she would help you reroute and find your way back!

She took us to our hotels with precision and her predicted time was perfect. We were warned in advance about possible delays on the way because of traffic congestion or repair work on the road. She really was our guardian angel on the road.

But what happens when we were not in the car? This happened quite often as we were walking the rest of the time; looking at churches, castles or just browsing. As our stomachs grumbled at the lack of nutrition where would we find our restaurant of choice? This is when our TT came to the rescue with her Siri. Her ever-present phone would be asked in a pseudo-American accent where the nearest Indian restaurant was and we would be given a few choices in the vicinity! Not only that we would also be given ratings of each of the restaurants. Our decisions were based on how hungry we were (the closest one maybe 0.8 km) and if we could hold on, the 1 km one, if it had better ratings. Though we mostly existed on sandwiches, pizzas and other Italian food we had regular cravings for Indian and Chinese food. Our dinners were when we would search for these restaurants! In Germany we have been to Agra, Jaipur and the Himalaya!

 

 It was windy and cold when we checked into our hotel in Heidelberg. There were plenty of Mac Donald’s, Burger kings and Pizza joints close to the hotel but after a long drive and an ineffectual lunch we wanted Indian food. The aid of TT was enlisted and she swung into action! We followed her wherever she went, keeping her in view as she strode confidently with her phone in hand. We lagged a bit as we were not quick enough to cross the road at the right time!

The restaurant was supposed to be 0.8 km and we had been walking for at least 15 minutes when TT realized that her GPS was behaving funnily and she warned us. I was tired and hungry and immediately voted that we turn back and eat the ubiquitous Pizza or Zuppa whatever was available. But TT was not to be shaken and she found some other means and led us to Agra where we had a great Indian Dinner.

During the trip we discovered that our Car Siri was good but our human Siri was even better as she would take into account our human eccentricities! But the Car Siri never threw a fit; but what’s life without a bit of discord?

Thank humans for the GPS and thank God for our TT!

PS: An advice for Indians on the run – it’s best to avoid the Chinese restaurants in Europe- they do not cater to our palate!

 *TT- terrible teenager