27 - LIFE IN A MULTI-STOREY IN MUMBAI

I spent my childhood in Pune, surrounded with small buildings of upto 2 storeys and then when I was a teenager, the buildings were becoming taller and upto ten to fifteen floors.  I used to visit my aunt in Mumbai, who had a home on the fourth floor of a building.  The only problem was that it had no lift.  But the view from the balcony was wonderful.

Now I live in Mumbai, in a multi-storey building and I have never been so lonely among so many 'neighbours'.  The main interaction with others residing here, is in the elevator.  the cliche question 'How are you?'  and the cliche answer 'Am fine.'  Or sometimes it is the weather that is mentioned and heads are nodded in unison.

So it may be seen as an advantage that there are no nosey prods.  But if you assume that then you are so so mistaken.  Each and everyone is very aware of the going-ons of everyone else.  The first gossiper is the 'bai' who works in your house and maybe ten other neighbours' houses.  And there are the drivers and watchmen, who congregate daily and have ALL the details of EVERYONE and EVERYTHING, with a very up-to-date news of all residents.  Then there is the daily newspaper vendor, who is always informed if anyone is going to be out of town.  The daily bread and egg vendor, who rings doorbells twice a day, to sell his wares, and in the process, becomes familiar with every family in the building.  The watchmen who just have to keep an eye on comings and goings, are the ones who know the schedules of all the residents.

A birthday,  a navjote,  a marriage,  a funeral,  all happenings are known to the entire building, and if one is not invited, it causes a lot of bad blood.  In that case,  the routine 'How are you?' also is lost. 

There arise many reasons for confrontations.  Similar surnames means that letters get delivered to the incorrect recipient often.  Someone takes away your servant by offering her a little more salary.  The neighbours on either side get fumigation done for cockroach infestation and your house is suddenly flooded with refugee cockroaches.  The naughty grandson of so-and-so, rings your door bell and runs away, to watch you wonder who the visitor had been.  A servant from one of the neighbours always spits near the elevator door.  The dhobi who visits the other neighbour,  leaves his baggage and blocks your door while he is completing his transactions.

But there are as many blessings too.  You can watch a baby grow into a little lady and smile when you come face to face in the lift, of course.  Or you get a wedding invite to the wedding of the boy who was just a teen when you saw him first.  The old bachelor who always cracks a joke whenever you meet him, in the elevator of course.

A multi-story building is like a little village.  And the co operative society committee is the governing body that everyone obeys. 

 

26 - PARIS VERSUS EGYPT, JAPAN AND INDIA

In Hindi, the term is 'shauchalay'.  Crudely, it is also called 'sundaas',  and all over India people comprehend the term 'toilet'.  But in Japan they do not, except for the English speaking persons.  When visiting  any foreign country, and even in India, you can easily find a toilet, if you visit a mall.

  In Egypt, that was difficult, because travel demands self control as the roads are bordered with farms or stretches of sand.  Stops are far between and toilets are not so well maintained in most places, especially at the pyramids and the Valley of the Kings.  Entry is restricted with strict rules of scanning machines and electronic detectors.  Even bottle openers and nail files are confiscated before entry into the pyramid sites.  Very high tech, and the guards, both male and female are very tough, but the washrooms on the premises were disgusting and dirty and unclean and stinking.

In many places in India, and specifically in Mumbai, it is the same story of unhygienically maintained loos.  Very often,  there are no public loos and it is an embarrassment if you need to answer nature's call at a place like Crawfrod Market, or at most of the local stations or at any place around Mumbai, unless the 'shauchalaya' board can be seen, and even then, you may be out of luck, if  it is shut.

While at Crawford market, there is one restaurant, that is popular, because it allows its customers to use a decent loo, otherwise there is no option, except to control your urge.  Sometimes I wonder why so many shop keepers and workers suffer the absence of this basic need.  I have witnessed many of the hawkers and 'tokriwallas' urinating in the narrow gaps between building in the area.  Since the roads are narrow and crowded, there is no option while one is walking there, but to suffer the sight, as they do it in full public view.    If you visit the Gateway of India,  you will find the public washrooms in the area just before the check-in point on the right.  There are long lines and it will be at least 15 minutes, before your turn comes.

Chowpatty beach is an open toilet for the beggars and squatters.  As is the state of many of Mumbai's beaches.  If you are walking along a footpath, you should be careful that your foot does not fall through the gap dug onto one side of the sewer lid, or even the MTNL lid. These gaps are dug by the pavement dwellers to dispose of their human waste.  Because even if there is a public toilet nearby, they will not pay to use it.

At the CST station, the toilet is over crowded and the doors do not latch.  But a new shauchalaya in the island across GPO,  is a very clean, free and well maintained toilet.  There is an interesting fish tank at the entrance and it is spacious and hygienic. Such a loo should be replicated at  every local station of Mumbai.

While travelling in Mumbai locals, one must suffer in silence, as there are no toilets on most stations.  Once we did find a toilet at Charni Road station, but the ladies toilet was locked.  It was about 11 in the morning, and yet the loo was locked?  Bandra has a very dirty toilet, in a forsaken corner.  Virar has a shabby pay and use loo near its entrance,  but the window slats are broken and you have to be aware that the passing public can see you go about your task.

Most Indian males have no qualms about urinating in full public view, near any wall that takes their fancy, or where no one will shoo them away.  So it is only in India, that walls have tiles of  'gods and goddesses'  embedded into them, to discourage males from defacing them with urination.  But the Indian male is so blunt, that I am aware of at least 4 such facebook dps, where they have displayed themselves urinating near a public road,  disgusting mentality.  Are they trying to show that it is a great picture and that it should be eternalised as their dp?  Please note guys, such pictures only show that you have a crude mindset that has not evolved into a  higher level of gentlemanly expectations.

 The worst scenario is at the Saifee Hospital Chowk.  One side of the road has this world class hospital, gold jewellery shops, expensive electronic showrooms, the famous diamond merchant's enclave, banks, a famous college and on the other side of the road is the Charni Road station, and at any time you can view a few male travellers, urinating against the station's built in pillars within, before they board a train for their long journey home. 

Mumbai is divided into various municipal wards, so that these can be maintained well by the local bodies.  They have done stupid things in the last few months, like installing garbage bins exactly at a bus stop, and exactly at the opening of a zebra crossing.  Why does the local body not understand the need for public toilets,  at least for the 'izzat' of females, but please do not build them exactly near a zebra crossing. 

Upto now, I can say that the most impressive toilet was the one at the Paris airport.  It was very clearly visible with  larger than life  male and female figures painted very aesthetically.   The interior was very clean and the large mirrors were spotless.  Each cubicle had the option of soft music and perfumes, and the loo lighted up when in use.    My description belies the beauty that I beheld in that washroom.  In Japan,  you needed to find a mall or a restaurant with the facility,  and of course all the tourist spots had clean loos.  In most places in Japan, the loos had electronic options for warming the seat, music, automatic washing etc.  It was like 'wow'.

Also they have painted on each cubicle door the option available, western or western with a baby holder, or a child option, or a Turkish toilet (similar to our Indian loo, but with a ceramic hood at the lower side.  In Japan,  the toilets are very child friendly, and lots of options are built in.  Near one Japanese shrine was a very small washroom, about 2 feet square, with a small squatting style loo, and a flush tank behind it, and a wash basin above the flush tank,  so that when the basin was used to wash hands, that water would fill the flush tank and be reused to clean the toilet.  It was a very innovative idea and should be replicated everywhere.

I can comment on the state of Indian loos, especially at major train stations, bus depots and tourist spots, because of my bad experiences at each place.  Kurla terminus, Bandra terminus, Mumbai central station, at the zoo,  at Crawford market, at Mahim station, at Matunga station or even outside the station, there is no toilet or a very  dysfunctional one, with broken windows, torn curtains instead of doors, no lights, sometimes locked.  And these are places where I have gone specially to shop for hours and hours.

Recently, Mr. Rishi Kapoor, our famous Bollywood actor of yesteryears aired his disgruntlings about famous landmarks being named after the Gandhi Nehru family.  It is very interesting to note that the Congress party, inaugurated a public toilet with the legend 'Rishi Kapoor Shauchalay'.  He should be proud of this because at least the public in that area have a clean washroom now.

I sincerely request all our famous and fame-seeking fraternity to sponsor public washrooms at strategic spots, thus earning the gratitude of the public at large and to further our prime minister's dream of a clean India in one small way.  Also for the comfort of tourists, who will then remember their names as a novel contribution to the public.



 

25 - PROMOTING AIB'S "HONEST INDIAN FLIGHT"

I do not like to travel unless there is a specific mission to accomplish at the end of it.  And I hate crowds and avoid getting caught in them, unless it is unavoidable. The claustrophobic feeling has made me stop visiting cinema halls.   One crowded place during travel is Mumbai's local train.   And another congested way to travel is the airplane.

If one has to travel by air,  the seats have to be booked months in advance, to get a good bargain.
Since I can just afford the economic seats,  I have to tolerate the tiny cubicled seating for the duration of the journey. 

The waiting starts at the airport, in the immigration  queue.  After luggage is weighed and tickets are issued, you have to wait and wait to walk through the check in, where body checks and hand luggage checks are done.  Then  you check the display board, which shows the gate  that you need to match with your flight.  And then you walk and walk and walk upto the assigned gate, where the waiting for boarding begins.  I must admit that the international airport in Mumbai is very well decorated, with traditional frescoes along the walls, colourful Indian installations along the long walk towards the gates.  Everyone stops to click selfies with the aesthetic and colourful decos.

The duty free shops are also very interesting and luring at the Mumbai airport.  But the restaurants are not so attractive. 

At last it is time to board the plane and the passengers enter the plane, where 2 crew welcome us with bored mechanical smiles.  And as I enter the plane,  I walk past the business class seats, with extra leg room and softer cushions.  If it is the dream liner, then almost 400 people will board, with two aisles and 3+4+3 seats in each row.  Hand luggage is stored overhead and we settle down into our seats.   If you are lucky, then you will not have a cougher or a sneezer or a wheezer near you.  But your luck can still run out, if the passenger in front of you pushes the seat back in recline position.  Then you may not be able to enjoy the built-in video, unless you too push your seat in the recline position and then suffer in that uncomfortable position for the next 10 or 15 hours.   The other hazard is a howling baby or a very loud conversation between the passengers close to you.

The seat belts are fastened and the plane begins its slow drive along the airport path assigned for it, until it reaches the runaway,  where it speeds up and takes off and is airborne.  The speeding up invariably is a fist clenching time and so is the landing time.  But it is a great lesson in spirituality, because I'm sure that each and every person on the plane prays for its safe landing, at the end of each journey. 

What a miracle man has discovered, to be able to fly among the clouds, and visit far off lands.  All the petty discomforts are forgotten, once the miracle is done.

24 - SAUNTERING ALONG COLABA CAUSEWAY

As a child, my family and I visited Mumbai during the May vacation.  A must during our visit was a trip in the iconic BEST double decker bus, route 123, upto the museum at Kaalaa Ghodaa.  Then we would walk upto Regal theatre and continue on a shopping spree along the footpath stalls upto our favourite Kailash Parbat sindhi snack restaurant.

Unfortunately, the double decker 123 has been discontinued now.  But the charm of sauntering along the causeway remains the same.  The pavement stalls begin from Cafe Mondegar, next door to the Regal theatre.  Sometimes, when I feel lost and lonesome, I walk along these crowded pavements and lose my self pity along the way.  It is true that shopping is therapy for the lonely. 

There is such a variety of  goods to choose from.  I cannot use the term 'window shopping' because most of the stalls have no windows at all.  The wares are openly displayed.  Earrings and bangles, broaches and payals, necklaces and bracelets and bindis,  all shimmering and colourful and attractive.  Then come the scarves and the Indian salvars, the western tops and the long skirts and pyjamas with Indian prints and mottos.  Foreign tourists and Indian women too are seen bargaining and buying.  Interspersed are the stalls selling glares and bags and chappals and shoes,  all supposedly at 'cheap' rates, compared to the pucca shops that are present along the pavement on the other side. 

My favourite window shopping stall is the one that displays crystal rocks.  I slow down here, so that I can feast my eyes on the beautiful shimmering rock crystals that adorn this stall.  The interesting stalls are also of the ship-ware surplus objects,  like brass clocks, horns, telescopes, bells and items that have been salvaged during the dismantling of ships.  Some stalls can carve your initials and make made-to-order key chains, with metal and wooden bases, in a few minutes.  Ethnic Indian filigiree articles like jewellery boxes, vases, hookahs and wall hangings are also available.  There are fruit stalls and fresh coconut water stalls,  and the one Indian dancing dolls hawker.  I recall, how as teenagers,  we would always stop and watch in wonder at the two little plastic dolls that danced away without any battery or winding mechanism.  I shall buy one set on my next visit to Colaba.  The seller sits on one side and manipulates the dolls with thin strings which are almost invisible, and it seems as if the plastic dolls are alive.

These pavement stalls are only on the left side of the road.  When we reach the end of the stalls, we always cross over to our favourite sev puri shop, Kailash Parbat. 

There are many more interesting shops along the path.  Top brand shoe shops, watch shops, clothing shops, luggage shops, and of course the restaurants like Cafe Leopold, which became famous during the 2008 Mumbai attacks by the Pakistani terrorists.  And further along is the colaba market,  and then come Sasoon Docks, where From 4 am every morning, the fresh catch of the day is auctioned off to hoteliers.   Near the Colaba bus depot, is the Scenic Port Trust Garden, built along the shore,  from which vantage point, we can view the iconic Tata bungalow. And of course, the 123 bus route continues into Navy Nagar, a stronghold for the Navy residencies,  and the Afghan Church landmark.  This is also the spot where Parsee weddings of the richest of the rich are celebrated at the Colaba Agiary.

So, whenever we visited Mumbai as children,  we would attend weddings and navjotes at the Colaba agiary too.

Sauntering along the causeway always stirs memories of my childhood and that is one of the reasons that makes the walk memorable everytime.


 

23 - INTRINSIC TO JAPAN

If you ever visit Japan, be prepared with lots of yen.   Some shops just refuse to accept any other currency, not even dollars, and exchange machines are not always at hand.  The Japanese currency has coins upto 500.  Their coins are in the denomination of 1, 2, 5, 10, 50, 100 and 500yen and for them,  it is just small change.  Keeping this in mind, it was yet a shock for me to read the price tags of fruits.  One pineapple was 1500yen and 4 bananas were for 500yen.

Another odd observation was that, at almost every kerb, there was a game parlour, with loud music blaring every time the door swung to let a client enter or exit.  Bright lights and with a full crowd inside.  So many young adults were patronizing these parlours that it was strange for me to note.  So it  was obvious that the Japanese adults, even middle aged men, enjoy video games, at public places.

Walking along a Tokyo footpath is a very mixed experience.  The sleek world brand shops, and the well heeled crowd made me feel that I was on an alien planet.  So many young boys and girls hold menus and discounted food coupons, trying to coax people to patronize their restaurants.  The pavement itself is an instructional signpost.  Painted on the pavements were messages that designated the areas for the public,  as 'no smoking' zones, 'cyclist friendly', no walking dog zone etc.  Special areas are designated for smokers, and these are labelled on the pavement and on certain closed booths along the metro station.  I recall the first strange sight as we exited the airport on arrival, was of a glass booth that invited smokers to freely enjoy  their cigarettes within its precinct.  So thoughtful towards the non-smoking public, is the Japanese government.

The footpaths are also specially embedded with one inch round metal circles.  These form a path for the visually impaired to follow easily and safely. As the footpath branches out onto a zebra crossing, these circular knobs are replaced by sharper, conical ones.  And they continue along the entire length of the zebra and onto the next pavement.  Even the public phone booths have two separate phones, one at the normal expected height, and another at a lower level, for the wheel chair bound persons.  So thoughtful towards the handicapped is the Japanese government.

The Japanese love their dogs.  They prefer tiny breeds and dress them and then walk with their little dogs in special dog prams.  I saw poodles, all trimmed and bowed, and all the possible tiny, hairy breed like the Pekingese, terriers, the Japanese Chin, the maltese, the lhasa apso..........The dogs were treated almost like their babies,  all dolled up and cute and cuddly and in safe little dog prams.
And the weather is so cool and pleasant, at 16 degrees C,  so most of the dogs are the furry ones that are favoured.

The most wonderful thing was that, I hardly noticed any police personnel, and yet the public place rules were followed impeccably.  I wish this would be replicated in India. 

22 - TRIGGER-HAPPY AND SATURATED IN CORRUPTION

Every baby is born an innocent living thing.  ECCE  explained how the foetus can absorb the emotions of the mother and how the infant's behaviour and growth is affected by the environment and the persons around,  how nutrition affects the physical growth and how immitation nurtures the emotional growth.   Genetics also plays a small say in both the areas.  But no parent wants to bring up a murderer or a goonda.   No parent would willfully want their progeny to be criminals.

In spite of our nurturing, each one of us develops bad habits and  sometimes it can unleash a monster that causes sorrow to others.  Someone can become a chain smoker and pollute the family air, another can be a persistant liar and get away with petty sins,  a shoplifter,  a wife beater,  a boaster,  a drunkard,  a rapist,  a stalker............

If  one introspects, it is extra money or indulgences that lead to vices.   A rich minister pampers his son with unlimited cash, cars, guns, and the most dangerous item,  the gall to do whatever the son takes a fancy to, without any worry for the havoc this behaviour may cause.  And this leads to a Rocky Yadav  in Bihar,  who can kill an innocent like Aditya without qualms.  Power perpetuates goonda raj.

The gun licensing authority of India should issue a gun, but the latent clause that accompanies possession, should be that that individual must work at the border for 6 months.  This clause will ensure that these gun owners develop an empathy for the injuries that can result, and the positive use that a weapon should be put to.

But if the crime has already been committed, then the individual should be forced to join the armed forces and be sent to the border for life.   If the culprit is sent for life imprisonment, it is not beneficial to anyone.  The government should put this trigger happy person to positive use.

By the way, Mr Arnab Goswami of Times Now,  you so vehemently condemn such wayward deeds of powerful politicians,  that we hope that it doesn't backlash onto you personally.   But it is heartening to note that at least our fourth estate can kindle justice for the wronged,  who would otherwise be silenced.  And it seems so,  with the shoot outs of two journalists in Bihar. 

EVIL MULTIPLIES WHEN GOOD MEN DON'T CHAMPION WHAT'S RIGHT.

21 - WASABI AND DREAMS AND FORECASTS............

Japan's tourism revolves around the numerous shrine and temple sites, the rope train ride upto Mt Fuji and the bullet train ride.   And the Hiroshima site, which was not included in our itinery.

We visited the gardens around the palace of  emperor Akihito and empress Michiko.  The fir trees are so strange, they have an  outer space type of a look.   I have not seen such trees even in Switzerland.  All gardens that we visited had a manicured look,  so unnatural.

The shrines and temples are well maintained and aesthetic.   And everything is of wood.  The entire structures, floors walls, roofs, the idols, everything is of wood.   The visit to the Sanjusangendo Hall, with its 1001 wooden statues, was an out-of-this-time-zone experience.  The Shinto Inari shrine with its torii wooden gates that line the entire mountain and the walking path upwards with dark ornage wooden pillars, known as torii gates, forming a shady path, decreasing in size a it went uphill.  All these temples had an entrance ticket and were crowded with tourists and local students, in smart blazers and girls with pleated skirts and keds.  Every temple site that we visted, sold dreams and wishes and forecasts for your personal life.  One hundred yen was the minimum cost, to shake a hexagonal box, pull out a stick from a tiny hole on one side, match the Japanese numeral on it, to a series of drawers that were stacked, open the designated one and take out a paper with a forecast for your future life, written in Japanese and English.   At other temples, you had to drop a 100yen coin into the donation box, then pick up a little one cm bundle, with a little golden charm, then find out what it meant to you, by comparing it to its future forecast list.   And then there were little wooden plaques to buy, to inscribe your wish or dream onto it with an ink pen, and then hang it near the special assigned fence near the sacred spot of the temple.   We saw thousands and thousands of such plaques tied to fences, near every shrine.  Each holy site makes a lot of money by selling dreams and wishes to visitors, and on the entrance ticket too. 

Leading to each shrine, one has to always walk uphill, along narrow streets, lined with tiny shops, selling "Japanese bean biscuits", my description, for the baked delicacies that were being sold at so many places.  A little sweet dough was poured into flat shaped metal toasters, then a sweet bean curd was put in and another layer of the dough, which was cooked over an open gas flame.   Quaint little shops selling very pretty and very expensive Japanese hand fans, hand painted chopsticks, and lots of magnets, key chains and show pieces with 'hello kitty' pictures.  Hot roasted chest nuts were the other snack available.    And green tea ice cream in cones.  Soya seeds, groundnuts baked into some sort of biscuit were also popular snacks.  And none of these were cheap, according to Indian standards.  Each ice cream was 350yen, and chestnuts were 450yen for 250gms.

Being a vegetarian, my travel director, a very accomodating and experienced lady, made sure that I was served veg sushi and a veg bento box meal, at every place that we dined.  So my veg sushi had sticky rice with a slice of green cucumber, rice with a slice of orange pumpkin, rice with a slice of dark orange carrot, rice with a slice of white bamboo shoot, rice with a slice of white raddish, and of course green sea weed and tofu with rice.   All these vegetables replace the different fish that make the original sushi bundles.   But I wanted the green wasabi chutney to liven up the bites, so I applied it generously on all my sushi bites, although my son and the travel director, both warned me that it would be hot and spicy.  I assured them that I loved spicy chutney anyway.  And then that was the first and last time that I shall ever ever eat wasabi.  My mouth was on fire and almost smoking,  and I had to douse my mouth with all the plain sticky rice in my bowl.  It surprised my son to see me use the chopsticks so adeptly to wolf down the rice in a hurry.  But he loves the wasabi Kit kat chocolates.

The Kinkakuji temple, known as the Golden Pavilion is the typical Japanese pagoda that defined my childhood memories of Japanese folklore that I used to read as a child.  This temple is in a lake and surrounded with the unreal looking green trees.  The temple's reflection is seen in the still waters, and it can be viewed without any tourists or visitors intruding into its pristine position, in the lake. 

On our way to Mt. Fuji, we spotted a few Sakura trees, the pink cherry blossoms, but the rains had begun, so we were lucky to have seen any at all. 

Everything in Japan looks unreal and plastic.  The very pretty and well heeled girls, the boys with streaked hair, their cute babies, the tiny breed dogs in special doggie prams, the roads with well behaved pedestrians and silent traffic, the neon lighted buildings at night, the plastic sushi and noodle meals displayed in the restaurant windows, the gleaming bullet train, the public cyclists on the footpaths,  the manicured gardens and space-like firs and birch trees,  the pandas in the Kyoto zoo and even mount Fuji, with its pretty bluish hue, topped with white snow and fluffy clouds near its top.



 

20 - ......AND MORE FROM jAPAN

Japan is known as the land of the rising sun and daybreak was at about 5am while we were there.  The weather was 15 degrees and so so cold.  And yet icecream was being sold at almost all the tourist spots that we visited, green tea icecream was the favourite.  The locals that I saw at Tokyo, were so so stylish and fit.  Perhaps it has to do with their marine diet.

Just as in France, here too there is no honking.  Cycling is promoted and is very popular.  The cyclists can cycle on the footpath and they do so in all shapes, sizes, ages and styles.  Cycles for the older age groups were shorter and sturdier with broader tyres,  the young mothers had special cycles, fitted with baby seats in the front and back, and for the younger generation, the cycles were trendier with gears and dynamo lights.

Traffic lights are followed very diligently.  Pedestrians wait at the kerb near a zebra, and then the traffic waits for the pedestrians way behind the zebra.   It was a treat to watch the busy roads come to a stop when it was the turn of the public to walk.  No one was breaking the rules,  not even when it was rush hour and people were jogging to reach the metro.  And the roads are clean.  Trash is left outside shops, neatly packaged into large plastic bags.

The girls are so pretty and so well dressed.  They walk fast and that too with high heels.  I just watched their shoes, as they walked past us.   What style!  And many of them were holding the cutest babies I have ever seen.  Even in Paris we did not see so many well heeled ladies.  And the men look fit, without protruding paunches. While the females flaunt their legs and stilleto shoes,  the males flaunt their hair styles,  with lots of coloured hair, streaks of white being the most favourite.

Here and there, traditionally dressed Japanese girls, in kimonoes were also walking around. 

But what made me sad was that so many of the smartly dressed girls and boys, were wearing cloth masks over their mouth and nose.  It seems that many of them are allergic to the pollen in the air.  But it marred the general feel of the well heeled youth and gave it an eerie feeling.   There were a few homeless persons too,  sleeping in the shade of the metro building, on the outskirts, with large cardboard boxes as protection from the chilly wind.   But no one was begging.

What made me happy was that everytime we entered a restaurant, or a shop, or just looked at anyone eye to eye, they would bow deeply and greet us very swiftly in Japanese.  It was very touching to experience this courtesy so often.

Every eating place had a bowl of chopsticks as cutlery.  And a bowl of green tea as starters.  And a deep bow and a verbal greeting.



 

19 - A DIFFERENT PEOPLE

In the far east,  is this achepelago of 6,852 islands, in the Pacific Ocean, called Japan.   My son was adamant that he wanted to visit this country and for three main reasons.  Being a sushi chef at the Trident Mumbai, he wanted to achieve his best and get the over achiever of the year award, by doing his all to do his best in the field, and so he wanted to see the authentic Japanese chefs.  The other reason was to visit Jiro Ono's sushi restaurant, Sukiyabashi Jiro at Tokyo, which has a 3 michelin star rating and has been featured in the awarding winning documentary by David Gelb.  And the final reason was to visit and witness the auctioning of Tuna at the ksukiji market.

The first visit that we completed on our own, was to visit the Ksukiji tuna auction.  We took a taxi, to the market at 2 am.   Only limited onlookers are allowed to witness the auction, on a first come basis.  So people come early and wait for the 6.00am auction.  Each person gets to don a green vest, and then we are allowed 15 minutes to observe the auction of frozen tuna.  What was the difficulty here was that from 3am, when we reached, upto the time that  our turn came to witness the auction, that is 6.30am,  we all had to sit on the floor and wait, in the room assigned, and the other negative was that, to reach the place and return, the taxi fare turned out to be exhorbitant, because in Tokyo, taxi fare starts at 730 yen.  Of course, it is an AC cab and the driver wears a blazer and uses google maps for directions.

We tasted a lot of sushi and bento box meals, and noodles and octupus balls and all sorts of fish on a stick, especially at the Nishiki market area.  This area is aka Crawford market of Mumbai, with a maze of narrow lanes, lined with shops and restaurants.  But it has a skyroof and so we were safe from the rain, while we walked along the lanes.  It is a strange phenomenon in Japan, that restauranteers post volunteers on the footpath, with large placards, displaying their menu, to pull customers into their foodplace.  The other strange phenomenon is that their restaurant windows display plastic replicas of their dishes, sushi or noodles with egg etc.

Very few people can converse in English, so maps are very important to be able to find your way back to your hotel.  And so finding the underground restraurant of Jiro Ono, which boasts of having had Barrack Obama as a guest,  was very tricky.  But my son had only that on his mind and he was even wanting to dine there, no matter the cost.  Unfortunately, when he went to the place, he was shooed off and lost face for all his endeavours to be at the sushi place of his dreams, for which he had travelled from India to this far eastern island.

But whatever was taken away from his self esteem by this rebuff, was made up by the serenity and beauty of all the shrines and temples that we visited, and of course the view of mount Fuji.  A volcano that looks mystical, with its smoothly ascending facade, tinted blue, with the virgin snow at its upper layers.