Let me start this blog, by thanking the almighty for making us “What We Are”. This context is prevalent to the Current Level of Existence that we are in, or in other words we should grateful for the hundreds of things that we get or we live with and as simple as roti, kapda and makaan.
At times, due the rat race that we run, called life, to ensure we are on top of things, that we choose are the best if we have, like, a grand apartment, a good sedan, a few million in the bank, we just don’t realised how privileged we are to be what we are now.
You might now start to think, why this blog is so philosophical or why am giving gyann and there is solid proof or reason for it. In India, we shoo away beggars on the road for many a reason. We don’t stop by to look at whether he is digging into the garbage just for anything that he might get to eat to survive or whether he/she is wearing tattered clothes, ragged on the road with nothing to eat etc. All this happens while we run our rat race and we don’t have time to look at them, some say there is a mafia behind the beggar community (There is even a movie with that concept), some say its their fate and so on, but we never look to help them in the real sense (Giving them alms, how much ever it may be or Anna Dhanam is not a help, it is done for our selfish reasons in most cases) and even ponder their existence. I am not complaining as I am one, just like the person who is reading this blog currently, who actually does nothing. Another thing to ponder here, is, most times we visit a temple we offer our hundial, or we donate a lot to temples, why can’t we donate it to the poor or do some charity. All the money that is given to the temple just rests there or is used by a useless administrator or politician for tasks/ circumstances that certainly have an ulterior motive. The best is that, we donate in the temple, because we want something to happen or because something that we wished for what happened.
I guess I can write a book on how we don’t actually do the right stuff (I know there is no right or wrong in life, just used it contextually and this is for all my ontological friends, reading this blog), but let me state the context of why I chose to write this blog. People who have worked with me, a few friends and of course my wife, would guarantee that it would take something special for anything to touch a soft spot in me. I am naturally assertive, at times tending towards aggressiveness, but realistic and practical majority of the times, that emotions don’t get the better of me. But what I was touched with today, is the way some people live and behave even in London. It’s not uncommon to see a beggar or an urchin on the road, but some people are different or life is difficult for them to do the acts am about to mention below.
On any common day, you would take these people to Londoners, as they are comfortably clothed and do not look like in need, but to my surprise this afternoon, near a café I found a bunch of people waiting for the café to place their trash bags in the corridor next to the shop, only for these waiting people to dig in to find unused or food that has just been expired. I can’t determine the word ‘just’, as I really do not know the date on these food packets or sandwiches etc, but they dig in to eat them. On every retail pack of food in the UK, you would find two dates. One for display and one for expiry, and if it has only one date, then it refers to both. But I was stunned to see people dig in. you can argue with me about their clothing as their common wear, when compared to the Indian beggar. But trust me I would not do that and thank god for not placing me in that position and of course am sure he would not so, in the future.
The next thing that really startled me was, when I was outside a café to get a coffee and there is this ‘white man’ walking on pavement and searching for cigarette buds thrown on the floor. He would select the one he wants and pick them up and place it in the box he is carrying. Again this man is well clothed, with nice jerkin to contain his warmth and cover him from the cold, whilst his companion stood there, with a decent hand bag, waiting for him pick the buds. I noticed that, this guy picked only the ones which were round or not flat, as people would normally stamp on to them after they have contained themselves with their puffing. Now this happened throughout the pavement and he carried on till he went off my sight. I could not contain my curiosity and asked a British colleague of mine, on what was the context; this man was picking up the buds that too very selectively. He told me that, this is common in UK, as these people pick up the buds that are round and go home and open them up to use the leftover tobacco for them to make a cigarette for themselves. I know that cigarettes or tobacco cost a fortune in the UK, but I never witnessed people stooping to this level. You can ask why does he need to smoke? , now that’s his choice, but look at the level that this man goes to survive.
Not only this, I know so many people, seen TV shows, where these people have lost their jobs in the last few years, thanks to the financial bubble burst, be subprime lending rates or credit issues, end of the day, these people have to survive and support a family without a job.
Looking at the above two incidents, am really ‘Thankful to GOD, for what I am currently’. Take a moment and look at your life. You currently have a computer with internet connection to read this blog, which certainly means you are comfortable in life. But we continue to worry about the things we don’t have and how bad life has been or treating us. Please step back and look around you; you are blessed to be “What you are”
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
My Experience with HSBC Bank
At last my first official Blog (The history of last year was more a memoir) in a few months and first for 2010.
Since last September I have been enquiring with a couple of branches HSBC Bank (in Oxford street and one near my office) on how to open an account in the UK, to negate the heavy service charges pressed upon me by ICICI bank, my salary account in India, for the ATM withdrawals in the UK and also to hedge the currency fluctuation, which was eating up my account balance. To put it into context, an average withdrawal would make your poorer by atleast £10 per withdrawal and this was the least you want when you are long term. At that instance, HSBC clearly stated that I needed a visa valid for a year (I had a 2 year multiple entry Business Visa then) and a visa that was a permanent one, like atleast a Work Permit and not a Visitor or a Business Visa.
I had dropped the idea then to open the account and resumed my enquiry in the middle of December, before I went away to India on my Vacation and to get my Work Permit Visa done. The requirements were very simple and they just wanted a letter from my employee in the UK stating my addresses in India and the UK along with copies of my passport and visa. Typically and actually the account is called a Passport account valid for a minimum of one year and extendable thereafter and had only a minimum charge of £8 per month for maintenance.
Once I returned in January I walked to same branch of HSBC, pretty close from my office in London, just to double check the requirements they had stated in December. This time the representative gave me a totally different set of requirements and told me that I needed a credit history in the UK for them to open an account. Then I questioned her about the entire idea of why HSBC had an account for immigrants to the UK called the Passport account, as they would not have any credit history, for which, she went blank and to cover her reasons, she told me that her branch had to have a tie up with my company Allianz to accept their letter as a proof and that she would call the next morning confirming the requirements. I waited and got no response from her and was disappointed and gutted for the lack of customer experience that she and the bank had provided.
Nonetheless, I called their customer help line no. to get the customer rep’s contact details and ended up enquiring the requirements and they gave the same that I had received in December. That evening, whilst returning home, the team and I decided to stop at Canary Wharf to buy groceries at TESCO’s and some window shopping at the Mall. The Mall is primarily set up for the employees who work in and around the financial hub of London, so we can expect the prices to be on the higher end and it is Canary Wharf. In the Mall they had a personal banking branch of HSBC, and I tried my luck to enter and get the requirements and found that they were the same as of December and as spelt out by the telebanking staff. So I reached out to my UK line manager in Guildford for her to pass on the letter to me, which with some work around as she was going on her vacation, got it done through another senior member of our group. I got a scanned copy of the letter only to find out from the telebanking staff that they required an original. A friend of mine was to bring over to London and he forgot it in a hurry.
I tried my luck, or took a hint from Robin Sharma’s 62 things you should do this year, one of which is take small risks in life everyday, no try, no win. So here I was with a coloured printout of the scanned copy to the branch with my passport and then, began the most extraordinary customer experience I have had so far, especially opening a bank account or with any financial institution.
The manager walked out and told me that they cant do it unless I work over at canary wharf and I told him that they did not mention it a couple of days earlier and I would have not wasted my time. He instantly apologised for not informing me and since it was their error put me onto a representative to open the account. She looked at my letter, took my passport, photocopied the passport and the Visa and began opening the account on her computer. She told me that she would need to do an international credit verification as I had no credit history in the UK, for which, I gave her my thumbs up. She kept speaking to me and reiterating the rules and regulations of the account type and in about 8 minutes she asked me to punch in my security numbers onto the account on her screen. My first question to her was, is the account set up and she said absolutely yes and its nearly done and I had to punch in my security numbers to complete the set up. I asked her next about the international credit verification and she said it’s already done and it was part of the set up. They finished my international credit check in less than 8 minutes, WOW !!. I punched in my security codes and it is a 8 digit number and she prompted me not to have any dates in, such as, date of birth or marriage anniversary etc. as it can hacked She then excused herself for a minute to return with the account kit and explained it for about two minutes and here I was with a UK bank account with HSBC in less than 10 minutes.
This experience does not end here; she told me that if I had a friend who had a passport account, I could send her the details of his account and both of us would get £10 into each of our accounts. I obliged, and sent the details the very next morning and as promised by her, it was in my account in less than 48 hours. Then, the next thing which amused me was how the debit card arrived. I reached home last night to find a post with my address details hand written. It was a normal white cover and my assumption was, it was tickets to the Manchester United games that I booked and was infact delighted to see them. To my astonishment it was the debit card, placed between two pieces of thin chart paper and on them it was written, stating that, for security reasons they have placed my cover containing the debit card between them and posted it to me as a normal post, that fraudsters don’t notice it. I went gaga over the idea and the intent and the extent they would go to securitize the customers.
It’s been a terrific customer experience with a premier international bank or for matter any financial institution that I have had a relationship with. An India, opening a bank account with a Chinese bank, HSBC, in the financial capital and Hub of the United Kingdom, and that’s how multicultural London can be.
Since last September I have been enquiring with a couple of branches HSBC Bank (in Oxford street and one near my office) on how to open an account in the UK, to negate the heavy service charges pressed upon me by ICICI bank, my salary account in India, for the ATM withdrawals in the UK and also to hedge the currency fluctuation, which was eating up my account balance. To put it into context, an average withdrawal would make your poorer by atleast £10 per withdrawal and this was the least you want when you are long term. At that instance, HSBC clearly stated that I needed a visa valid for a year (I had a 2 year multiple entry Business Visa then) and a visa that was a permanent one, like atleast a Work Permit and not a Visitor or a Business Visa.
I had dropped the idea then to open the account and resumed my enquiry in the middle of December, before I went away to India on my Vacation and to get my Work Permit Visa done. The requirements were very simple and they just wanted a letter from my employee in the UK stating my addresses in India and the UK along with copies of my passport and visa. Typically and actually the account is called a Passport account valid for a minimum of one year and extendable thereafter and had only a minimum charge of £8 per month for maintenance.
Once I returned in January I walked to same branch of HSBC, pretty close from my office in London, just to double check the requirements they had stated in December. This time the representative gave me a totally different set of requirements and told me that I needed a credit history in the UK for them to open an account. Then I questioned her about the entire idea of why HSBC had an account for immigrants to the UK called the Passport account, as they would not have any credit history, for which, she went blank and to cover her reasons, she told me that her branch had to have a tie up with my company Allianz to accept their letter as a proof and that she would call the next morning confirming the requirements. I waited and got no response from her and was disappointed and gutted for the lack of customer experience that she and the bank had provided.
Nonetheless, I called their customer help line no. to get the customer rep’s contact details and ended up enquiring the requirements and they gave the same that I had received in December. That evening, whilst returning home, the team and I decided to stop at Canary Wharf to buy groceries at TESCO’s and some window shopping at the Mall. The Mall is primarily set up for the employees who work in and around the financial hub of London, so we can expect the prices to be on the higher end and it is Canary Wharf. In the Mall they had a personal banking branch of HSBC, and I tried my luck to enter and get the requirements and found that they were the same as of December and as spelt out by the telebanking staff. So I reached out to my UK line manager in Guildford for her to pass on the letter to me, which with some work around as she was going on her vacation, got it done through another senior member of our group. I got a scanned copy of the letter only to find out from the telebanking staff that they required an original. A friend of mine was to bring over to London and he forgot it in a hurry.
I tried my luck, or took a hint from Robin Sharma’s 62 things you should do this year, one of which is take small risks in life everyday, no try, no win. So here I was with a coloured printout of the scanned copy to the branch with my passport and then, began the most extraordinary customer experience I have had so far, especially opening a bank account or with any financial institution.
The manager walked out and told me that they cant do it unless I work over at canary wharf and I told him that they did not mention it a couple of days earlier and I would have not wasted my time. He instantly apologised for not informing me and since it was their error put me onto a representative to open the account. She looked at my letter, took my passport, photocopied the passport and the Visa and began opening the account on her computer. She told me that she would need to do an international credit verification as I had no credit history in the UK, for which, I gave her my thumbs up. She kept speaking to me and reiterating the rules and regulations of the account type and in about 8 minutes she asked me to punch in my security numbers onto the account on her screen. My first question to her was, is the account set up and she said absolutely yes and its nearly done and I had to punch in my security numbers to complete the set up. I asked her next about the international credit verification and she said it’s already done and it was part of the set up. They finished my international credit check in less than 8 minutes, WOW !!. I punched in my security codes and it is a 8 digit number and she prompted me not to have any dates in, such as, date of birth or marriage anniversary etc. as it can hacked She then excused herself for a minute to return with the account kit and explained it for about two minutes and here I was with a UK bank account with HSBC in less than 10 minutes.
This experience does not end here; she told me that if I had a friend who had a passport account, I could send her the details of his account and both of us would get £10 into each of our accounts. I obliged, and sent the details the very next morning and as promised by her, it was in my account in less than 48 hours. Then, the next thing which amused me was how the debit card arrived. I reached home last night to find a post with my address details hand written. It was a normal white cover and my assumption was, it was tickets to the Manchester United games that I booked and was infact delighted to see them. To my astonishment it was the debit card, placed between two pieces of thin chart paper and on them it was written, stating that, for security reasons they have placed my cover containing the debit card between them and posted it to me as a normal post, that fraudsters don’t notice it. I went gaga over the idea and the intent and the extent they would go to securitize the customers.
It’s been a terrific customer experience with a premier international bank or for matter any financial institution that I have had a relationship with. An India, opening a bank account with a Chinese bank, HSBC, in the financial capital and Hub of the United Kingdom, and that’s how multicultural London can be.
The year that was -- 2009
Its that time of the year, beginning of a new one and the end of another to reflect on the year that went by. The usual norm in my life has been to crib about what I could have done better and what I have not done, but for the first time in my entire life and for sure going forward I have relished the year 2009 and all this thanks to the mega transformation that I have created in my life, the people who I have been with the way I dealt with circumstances and the way I created 2009.The above paragraph has a lot of ‘I,s’, but at times it is good for one to pat one’s own back on the achievements created by self. As human being’s we do not know how to respond, when somebody appreciates us, leave alone self appreciation and I can guarantee, that this is not my ego or self praise or the urge to show my worth.
The year began well with a business trip to the UK for 7 weeks, of which, the best experience was of heavy snowfall and me being present to enjoy every bit of it. Also I had the opportunity to get my prized possession of a DSLR. Though I was going through the cold in the UK, there was enough heat in India with the preparation for the D-Day i.e. marriage which was in full swing. As the days went by, I had lesser time on hand to get my part of the wedding preparation done, like shopping, inviting people etc. and even before I realised after landing in India in mid February I was en route to tumkur for the biggest event of my life till date.
And then we arrived in tumkur with a huge bandwagon of people from all over India and even before I realised or allowed the feeling of me getting married to sunk in, it was all over, I had lost my bachelorhood and was installed into the realms of major manhood, with my wife standing by my side. The marriage was over, then the trip to tirupathi and then the reception in Chennai and in the end, the month , March was done by. All I remember of my reception is I stood there shaking my head to acknowledge people and my hand to accept their greetings. The worst part is that, both of us did not even get a chance to have the fantastic menu on offer and that too eat it hot. Advise to people who expect a large number at their reception – take a break in between to have your dinner.
We moved into Trivandrum and I got to work only to find that April, whisked by. But we had a great and memorable trip / drive to munnar and back, which was awesome, except for the fact that we had company of family friends, which then denied us to term our first trip together as our honeymoon. So technically, we are still to have our honeymoon – Hahaha.
April to June was acclimatisation period, with one and another, as, for however long you know each other and court around, living under a single roof is different and in most cases when people court, they try to be at their best behaviour at most times. With being with each other, you then have to make choices, negotiate etc. on your habits, actions etc. than when you were on your own, alone in that splendid world, where the extra thing called responsibility of handling / living with another being (who because she believed in you) before the nuptial bond did not exist. Only if these periods of choices are accepted by each other, can you certainly term the other as the better half, else it would be the bitter half.
By this time, rekha had settled in enough that she was getting bored with things around her; don’t know whether it included me, that we had to make choices of either relocating to a city of our choice, where we had plenty of acquaintances or for her to look for a job over in Trivandrum. The latter than became more of a need, with a project tabled to me, where I had to travel to the UK in August for a couple of months, only to find out that the project now has evolved to continue through 2010 and looks eternal.
With this being the constrain, Rekha found a good job in a good company in Trivandrum and I flew over the UK. But with the prolonging of the project and that I had to continue there, distance and time zones started affecting even the newest of married people (though we knew each other and have been in this situation before though on opposite sides) and the choices and conversations that were had in the first quarter of our marriage (Am on a project, so trying to use some jargons).
The initial part of the project or time in the UK, was not that rigorous, as it was from October, that I found time to take some photos, travelled to Cardiff and spent time with little brother, wrote blogs (This is my first one since October) etc. But with the leg on the pedal, the rigour of the project accompanied with deadlines, I just found time to work, sleep, eat and make a few calls home for a few minutes, with certainly getting more than enough language from my wife for not giving her time. I even crossed that phase and it was time for me to make the vacation back home for Christmas. The thought of it gave me warmth and rekindled my energy, which certainly was getting sapped, due to long working hours. On the other hand, of me not being in the UK for the festive season was on my mind, but enjoying the warmth of my wife was far more appealing than the celebration in London. Also that, if I had made the latter choice of being in UK, I would have found heat and more heat arising from her – Hahaha.
The year ended really well, with the visit to India and spending some quality time with Rekha, my folks and hers, only to return to the UK, in the first week of January 2010. Overall, it has been a great year, I have known how to make every year a great one and it purely lies in our hand to make it great. There are some plans and promises for 2010 and am eager to create them and make it bigger than 2009. Lastly, thank God for giving me the courage, strength, health to make the last year a great one and to all those people who helped me, even in the minute of way possible, from the maid servant, to car washer to my friends, colleagues, stakeholders, relatives and finally my parents and brother – a BIG thank you.
The year began well with a business trip to the UK for 7 weeks, of which, the best experience was of heavy snowfall and me being present to enjoy every bit of it. Also I had the opportunity to get my prized possession of a DSLR. Though I was going through the cold in the UK, there was enough heat in India with the preparation for the D-Day i.e. marriage which was in full swing. As the days went by, I had lesser time on hand to get my part of the wedding preparation done, like shopping, inviting people etc. and even before I realised after landing in India in mid February I was en route to tumkur for the biggest event of my life till date.
And then we arrived in tumkur with a huge bandwagon of people from all over India and even before I realised or allowed the feeling of me getting married to sunk in, it was all over, I had lost my bachelorhood and was installed into the realms of major manhood, with my wife standing by my side. The marriage was over, then the trip to tirupathi and then the reception in Chennai and in the end, the month , March was done by. All I remember of my reception is I stood there shaking my head to acknowledge people and my hand to accept their greetings. The worst part is that, both of us did not even get a chance to have the fantastic menu on offer and that too eat it hot. Advise to people who expect a large number at their reception – take a break in between to have your dinner.
We moved into Trivandrum and I got to work only to find that April, whisked by. But we had a great and memorable trip / drive to munnar and back, which was awesome, except for the fact that we had company of family friends, which then denied us to term our first trip together as our honeymoon. So technically, we are still to have our honeymoon – Hahaha.
April to June was acclimatisation period, with one and another, as, for however long you know each other and court around, living under a single roof is different and in most cases when people court, they try to be at their best behaviour at most times. With being with each other, you then have to make choices, negotiate etc. on your habits, actions etc. than when you were on your own, alone in that splendid world, where the extra thing called responsibility of handling / living with another being (who because she believed in you) before the nuptial bond did not exist. Only if these periods of choices are accepted by each other, can you certainly term the other as the better half, else it would be the bitter half.
By this time, rekha had settled in enough that she was getting bored with things around her; don’t know whether it included me, that we had to make choices of either relocating to a city of our choice, where we had plenty of acquaintances or for her to look for a job over in Trivandrum. The latter than became more of a need, with a project tabled to me, where I had to travel to the UK in August for a couple of months, only to find out that the project now has evolved to continue through 2010 and looks eternal.
With this being the constrain, Rekha found a good job in a good company in Trivandrum and I flew over the UK. But with the prolonging of the project and that I had to continue there, distance and time zones started affecting even the newest of married people (though we knew each other and have been in this situation before though on opposite sides) and the choices and conversations that were had in the first quarter of our marriage (Am on a project, so trying to use some jargons).
The initial part of the project or time in the UK, was not that rigorous, as it was from October, that I found time to take some photos, travelled to Cardiff and spent time with little brother, wrote blogs (This is my first one since October) etc. But with the leg on the pedal, the rigour of the project accompanied with deadlines, I just found time to work, sleep, eat and make a few calls home for a few minutes, with certainly getting more than enough language from my wife for not giving her time. I even crossed that phase and it was time for me to make the vacation back home for Christmas. The thought of it gave me warmth and rekindled my energy, which certainly was getting sapped, due to long working hours. On the other hand, of me not being in the UK for the festive season was on my mind, but enjoying the warmth of my wife was far more appealing than the celebration in London. Also that, if I had made the latter choice of being in UK, I would have found heat and more heat arising from her – Hahaha.
The year ended really well, with the visit to India and spending some quality time with Rekha, my folks and hers, only to return to the UK, in the first week of January 2010. Overall, it has been a great year, I have known how to make every year a great one and it purely lies in our hand to make it great. There are some plans and promises for 2010 and am eager to create them and make it bigger than 2009. Lastly, thank God for giving me the courage, strength, health to make the last year a great one and to all those people who helped me, even in the minute of way possible, from the maid servant, to car washer to my friends, colleagues, stakeholders, relatives and finally my parents and brother – a BIG thank you.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
A walk in the rain – What an experience!! – Part 2
It was light but really steady drizzle as I stepped out of office for my usual 40 minute walk back to the hotel. As I strode through Leaden Hall Road and Fenchurch Street, where my offices are located, you could see an array of umbrella’s, different sizes, shapes and colours. But that’s not the experience am speaking about. I just stood back for a second to look at all the sky scrapers in the vicinity and to my amusement; all of them were visible to their half only, as the rest were covered by a misty whiteness which had engulfed them. It was a sight not to be missed. As I enjoyed the view, it was time to move on, because you never know how the English weather would change. It could just turn into a downpour and I would be stranded in the middle of no where.
As I strode through the usual route, the walk towards Tower Hill Underground station and past it onto the Tower Bridge, I felt the same experience of that of Mumbai. The Londoners were striding at their usual pace, irrespective of the rain. Trust me; these guys walk really fast, compared to me. By the time I reached the tower bridge, my pant’s were beginning to get wet from the bottom and my suit was wet from behind already. Luckily because of the suit, I was still not feeling the real chill.
The walk on the tower bridge is awesome. On a normal day, you could see loads of people from different countries, background, ethnicity, colour etc. standing on it, admiring the Thames, clicking pictures, hugging each other, kissing and you can really feel a sense of romance and unconditional love around you. A feeling of being human and for a few minutes not worrying about the world you need to get back into, would clearly hit you when you focus on how these people relate to the others with them or the environment around them is at that very point. But today as it was raining, the normal bustle was missing and it was only the commuters trying to get back from work.
As I was walking, I looked at the Thames, it was truly a grand spectacle, that only nature can throw up at you. Half of the river was covered by mist, a light mixture of white and grey carpeting the Cruise Lines and HMS Belfast the World War II ship anchored on the river. The buildings in the background and London Bridge felt a mere existence to what nature had portrayed on the canvas called the ‘River Thames’. It’s one of those memories that would last for long in my mind and probably a story to tell my Grand children – that if I remember it till then. This picturesque visual attracts you to just stand there and keep admiring it, but when there are a few more heavy drops on your umbrella, you have to get of this wonder view, which certainly is dreamlike to proceed my walk to the hotel.
As all good things have to come to an end, so does my walk in the rain, only to settle in the warmth of my hotel room.
Truly a WOW experience.
As I strode through the usual route, the walk towards Tower Hill Underground station and past it onto the Tower Bridge, I felt the same experience of that of Mumbai. The Londoners were striding at their usual pace, irrespective of the rain. Trust me; these guys walk really fast, compared to me. By the time I reached the tower bridge, my pant’s were beginning to get wet from the bottom and my suit was wet from behind already. Luckily because of the suit, I was still not feeling the real chill.
The walk on the tower bridge is awesome. On a normal day, you could see loads of people from different countries, background, ethnicity, colour etc. standing on it, admiring the Thames, clicking pictures, hugging each other, kissing and you can really feel a sense of romance and unconditional love around you. A feeling of being human and for a few minutes not worrying about the world you need to get back into, would clearly hit you when you focus on how these people relate to the others with them or the environment around them is at that very point. But today as it was raining, the normal bustle was missing and it was only the commuters trying to get back from work.
As I was walking, I looked at the Thames, it was truly a grand spectacle, that only nature can throw up at you. Half of the river was covered by mist, a light mixture of white and grey carpeting the Cruise Lines and HMS Belfast the World War II ship anchored on the river. The buildings in the background and London Bridge felt a mere existence to what nature had portrayed on the canvas called the ‘River Thames’. It’s one of those memories that would last for long in my mind and probably a story to tell my Grand children – that if I remember it till then. This picturesque visual attracts you to just stand there and keep admiring it, but when there are a few more heavy drops on your umbrella, you have to get of this wonder view, which certainly is dreamlike to proceed my walk to the hotel.
As all good things have to come to an end, so does my walk in the rain, only to settle in the warmth of my hotel room.
Truly a WOW experience.
A walk in the rain – What an experience!! – Part 1
It’s been raining the last three days in London and it’s that type of English rain, a relentless drizzle. While walking back home it just struck me, that I really have not enjoyed rain, nature at one of its best. Its not nature’s fury but one of those beautiful little things that nature offer’s you and we being so caught up in our lives don’t even have the slightest inclination to see it, leave alone, enjoying it. As this thought occurred to me, I started relating to the experience of how it feels being in the rain.
I ran the tortoise mosquito coil, to rewind my years in life to check within me, whether I have really experienced rain and it really hit me then, to notice that the answer was a definite NO. It really was reality check of sorts.
When I was young, rain meant, no school and sitting at home and that was the delight rain bought me. Probably I would have ventured a few times, to try a paper boat on the flowing water on the roads, or loved to kick the water out of the balcony in my house. We used to live on the first floor of a house and when it would rain, water would get accumulated in the balcony and you had to push it down to the ground floor to clear the balcony and I remember having fun kicking the water down. Another clear remembrance is how the rain would play spoil sport during Diwali. As a kid, I would have begged for a few tens or hundreds of Rupees from my parents to buy those crackers for diwali and exactly on diwali it would pour, just to sour your childishness, that of bursting crackers.
The next thought of rain surely is college days and in those 3 years there was more rain than I have experienced in Chennai. As guys we would love to go to college during those days, because we knew enough water would have entered the college gates for them to declare the evening off (I was in evening college). Then it would be party time, having that wonderful masala vada and chai at Nair’s tea shop near college or going to Besant Nagar beach in the rain and waiting for it to stop to eat really hot fried rice on the road side. Wow!, those days were great, it was the Summer of 96. By end of this fantastic experience you would be soaking wet, even if you were wearing a duckbag rain coat.
The other only experience of rain was when I was in Mumbai and I was startled and amazed as how the city continued to move on, in its own rapid speed irrespective of the mighty Mumbai monsoon. One certain experience was of getting a Dominos Pizza delivered in pouring rain in less than an hour, that too from Malad to Goregoan. But all these experiences were not life altering till the one I experienced last evening.
To be continued in part two.
I ran the tortoise mosquito coil, to rewind my years in life to check within me, whether I have really experienced rain and it really hit me then, to notice that the answer was a definite NO. It really was reality check of sorts.
When I was young, rain meant, no school and sitting at home and that was the delight rain bought me. Probably I would have ventured a few times, to try a paper boat on the flowing water on the roads, or loved to kick the water out of the balcony in my house. We used to live on the first floor of a house and when it would rain, water would get accumulated in the balcony and you had to push it down to the ground floor to clear the balcony and I remember having fun kicking the water down. Another clear remembrance is how the rain would play spoil sport during Diwali. As a kid, I would have begged for a few tens or hundreds of Rupees from my parents to buy those crackers for diwali and exactly on diwali it would pour, just to sour your childishness, that of bursting crackers.
The next thought of rain surely is college days and in those 3 years there was more rain than I have experienced in Chennai. As guys we would love to go to college during those days, because we knew enough water would have entered the college gates for them to declare the evening off (I was in evening college). Then it would be party time, having that wonderful masala vada and chai at Nair’s tea shop near college or going to Besant Nagar beach in the rain and waiting for it to stop to eat really hot fried rice on the road side. Wow!, those days were great, it was the Summer of 96. By end of this fantastic experience you would be soaking wet, even if you were wearing a duckbag rain coat.
The other only experience of rain was when I was in Mumbai and I was startled and amazed as how the city continued to move on, in its own rapid speed irrespective of the mighty Mumbai monsoon. One certain experience was of getting a Dominos Pizza delivered in pouring rain in less than an hour, that too from Malad to Goregoan. But all these experiences were not life altering till the one I experienced last evening.
To be continued in part two.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Hotel NAV RANG – Kenton, North London
The last week, as me and my brother had decided to go the Swami Narayan Temple, we decided to wet our tongues to some Gujarati cuisine and hence called a Gujurati friend seeking advice on a good Gujurati outlet, matching our wallet. She then guided us to NAV RANG in Kenton.
As we finished our visit to the temple, we had to take the tube to Kenton and walk a mile to reach this place. We reached there about quarter past seven and they closed down at half eight, you are welcomed to very homely looking joint and a Gujurati girl welcomed us, of course in Gujurati and asked us what we would like to eat. We saw a poster saying unlimited thali for £3.50 and enquired what we would get of it, and she replied everything was unlimited and our eyes lit up to glory of eating some gujju food unlimited reminiscent to Hotel Saravana Bhavan or Mansukh in Chennai. As we sat on the table and she came with our plates, she gave us the first heart break or stomach break to say, only three roti’s the rest were unlimited. Now you have begun your dinner, travelled all the way, damn hungry and could not cancel and we said to ourselves, so be it.
As we waited for the roti’s, I tried the rice and dal, only to find it, out rightly cold and was truly disappointed by now. The roti’s arrived, atleast hot and melting with ghee. The first indulge of the roti with the curry, and surprise, surprise, the curry was cold as well. It felt as if, except the roti, the rest were made earlier, how early, your guess is as good as mine. It was a big let down, but then we were hungry and I asked for extra rice and dal, only to find the rice, dry – like if you cook rice and leave and re heat it, you find some of the rice dry, it was the same.
The next thing that came to my mind was the dialogue from the movie ‘Salaam Namaste’, where Saif, the Head Chef asks one of his cooks, ‘Doesn’t the food look homely and the cook replies, yes boss. For which Saif says, you eat at home itself if the food is so homely and they do not need to some to his restaurant to eat’. This was the case, it was so homely that god knows when it was made?
NAVRANG, became NEVER AGAIN. As the Brits say – ‘what a shame?’
As we finished our visit to the temple, we had to take the tube to Kenton and walk a mile to reach this place. We reached there about quarter past seven and they closed down at half eight, you are welcomed to very homely looking joint and a Gujurati girl welcomed us, of course in Gujurati and asked us what we would like to eat. We saw a poster saying unlimited thali for £3.50 and enquired what we would get of it, and she replied everything was unlimited and our eyes lit up to glory of eating some gujju food unlimited reminiscent to Hotel Saravana Bhavan or Mansukh in Chennai. As we sat on the table and she came with our plates, she gave us the first heart break or stomach break to say, only three roti’s the rest were unlimited. Now you have begun your dinner, travelled all the way, damn hungry and could not cancel and we said to ourselves, so be it.
As we waited for the roti’s, I tried the rice and dal, only to find it, out rightly cold and was truly disappointed by now. The roti’s arrived, atleast hot and melting with ghee. The first indulge of the roti with the curry, and surprise, surprise, the curry was cold as well. It felt as if, except the roti, the rest were made earlier, how early, your guess is as good as mine. It was a big let down, but then we were hungry and I asked for extra rice and dal, only to find the rice, dry – like if you cook rice and leave and re heat it, you find some of the rice dry, it was the same.
The next thing that came to my mind was the dialogue from the movie ‘Salaam Namaste’, where Saif, the Head Chef asks one of his cooks, ‘Doesn’t the food look homely and the cook replies, yes boss. For which Saif says, you eat at home itself if the food is so homely and they do not need to some to his restaurant to eat’. This was the case, it was so homely that god knows when it was made?
NAVRANG, became NEVER AGAIN. As the Brits say – ‘what a shame?’
Swami Narayan Temple – Wembley, North London
It’s been more than 6 weeks since I have been in London, and even before I left the divine shores of India, I was asked to visit this temple by my dad. The time had come to visit the temple the weekend that went by. In my mind it was just another temple and I believed it was a temple of Lord Narayana, till I reached the holy place, only to be flabbergasted by the grandeur.
It is good one hour plus journey from central London where I am put up currently, by tube or London underground and then by bus from the stone bridge underground station. As I got off the bus, I was visually stunned to look at a beautiful temple built by the Hindus for the Hindus in London. As expected you head first to cloak room, which reside opposite the entrance of the temple to leave your bag, camera etc and are allowed to carry only your wallet and switched of mobile phone. Then you walk across to enter the temple premise.
If you have ever gone to the ISCON temple in Bangalore, you would start to relate to it for its whiteness, thanks to 5000 tonnes of Italian Marble used to build this temple. Once you enter the premises, you go through an airport type security check. Then for men you turn left to leave your footwear and jackets, before you proceed in to the sanctum sanctorum. Opposite the entrance is the souvenir shop for you to purchase, incense sticks etc.
As you enter the sanctum sanctorum, you find an 3 feet idol of the sage Swami Narayan, and that’s were I realised the temple is about a sage who propagated Hinduism and that it is a sect followed religiously by the Gujarati community and not another temple or Lord Vishnu, where they conduct special puja’s and abhisekham’s. After having a glimpse of the idol, I felt – is that all, till you climb about 20 steps to the first floor to visit the great hall, brilliantly built with marble, fantastically lit and find murti’s of different god. You begin with Lord Ganesha, then Rama, then the different guru’s of the sect, Swami Narayan himself, Lord Shiva and Parvathi. Lord Krishna and end with Lord Hanuman.
As you sit in the hall, you begin to feel the silence in you and once you begin to meditate, you start to touch the soul within you thanks to the calm surrounding. Things seem to come to a stand still, till you feel you have finished with your routine at the temple. As you climb down, you enter a museum kind place for insights on Hinduism. You pay a couple of pounds and have a tour of the same.
As you finish your tour and the around the temple and you walk out to collect your belongings, right round the corner, you can find a Gujarati restaurant and an Indian supermarket run by the trust. It had already been a long afternoon and it was time to indulge into the great India Samosa and some batata vada.
As we walked around this great monument in North London towards the bus stand, you feel privileged about being a Hindu. I would say a must see for all in London.
This place gives you so much inner peace when compared to fast paced life of London.
It is good one hour plus journey from central London where I am put up currently, by tube or London underground and then by bus from the stone bridge underground station. As I got off the bus, I was visually stunned to look at a beautiful temple built by the Hindus for the Hindus in London. As expected you head first to cloak room, which reside opposite the entrance of the temple to leave your bag, camera etc and are allowed to carry only your wallet and switched of mobile phone. Then you walk across to enter the temple premise.
If you have ever gone to the ISCON temple in Bangalore, you would start to relate to it for its whiteness, thanks to 5000 tonnes of Italian Marble used to build this temple. Once you enter the premises, you go through an airport type security check. Then for men you turn left to leave your footwear and jackets, before you proceed in to the sanctum sanctorum. Opposite the entrance is the souvenir shop for you to purchase, incense sticks etc.
As you enter the sanctum sanctorum, you find an 3 feet idol of the sage Swami Narayan, and that’s were I realised the temple is about a sage who propagated Hinduism and that it is a sect followed religiously by the Gujarati community and not another temple or Lord Vishnu, where they conduct special puja’s and abhisekham’s. After having a glimpse of the idol, I felt – is that all, till you climb about 20 steps to the first floor to visit the great hall, brilliantly built with marble, fantastically lit and find murti’s of different god. You begin with Lord Ganesha, then Rama, then the different guru’s of the sect, Swami Narayan himself, Lord Shiva and Parvathi. Lord Krishna and end with Lord Hanuman.
As you sit in the hall, you begin to feel the silence in you and once you begin to meditate, you start to touch the soul within you thanks to the calm surrounding. Things seem to come to a stand still, till you feel you have finished with your routine at the temple. As you climb down, you enter a museum kind place for insights on Hinduism. You pay a couple of pounds and have a tour of the same.
As you finish your tour and the around the temple and you walk out to collect your belongings, right round the corner, you can find a Gujarati restaurant and an Indian supermarket run by the trust. It had already been a long afternoon and it was time to indulge into the great India Samosa and some batata vada.
As we walked around this great monument in North London towards the bus stand, you feel privileged about being a Hindu. I would say a must see for all in London.
This place gives you so much inner peace when compared to fast paced life of London.
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