Day 2, Split....Part 2 , Toeing Off

We reached Split at around nine in the morning and after a coffee and putting my luggage at the counter, it was time to go exploring. Ofcourse Split is most famous for two things. One, being the home town of Goran Ivanisevic (I love how that comes first in my head) and two, for Diocletian s Palace, the retirement home of one Mr. GAIUS AURELIUS VALERIUS DIOCLETANIUS (and that is just the first 4 in a list of 22 names by the way. I suppose he had a tough time when someone asked him his middle name. And it was 22 when he was emperor. He added a few more just for the fun of it on retiring. I suppose he decided to retire when visiting dignitaries never got his name right. Infact, I am sure he never knew his full name himself. Just imagine waking up and trying to remember what your name is? And then continuing to do that the entire day after which you finally give up and go check the plaque in front of your house) .

Diocletian was famous for his persecution of Christians in the latter half of his life and strived to eradicate Christianity all together. I found it ironic and somehow typically Christian that what was once his masoulem is now a cathedral containing the sarcophagi of two of the saints he had tortured and killed. Infact the only proof that exists that this was old Diocletian's humble abode at all is a small little inscription hidden away in the dark corners of the masoulem. There was even a cafe called LVXOR on the steps of the ruins and I just had to have an espresso there. What i didnt enjoy however was having to pay to enter each and every attraction within the palace walls. It's not the paying persay that I had a problem with, but the number of times I had to take my wallet out. I would have much rather prefrred to pay 50 Kuna at the entrance rather than pay 10 kuna at five different points. There is something quite alarming in seeing your wallet reduce in size like Tom Hanks in Castaway.

Outside the 'Golden Gate' (it's not actually golden, just called golden. the other two gates are called silver and iron. Apparently bronze was not vey highly thought of, as it is today) is a huge statue of Gregory of Nin by Ivan Mestrovic, the most well known of modern Croatian sculptors. The monumental sculpture shows the bishop reading the Bible with his long, reedy fingers (a characteristic of Mestrovic's style) seemingly pointing to his hat, which he seems quite proud of. Grgur Ninski was a 10th century bishop that strongly opposed the Pope and official circles of the Church and introduced the Croatian language in the religious services after the Great Assembly in 926. Until that time, services were held only in Latin, not being understandable to the majority of the population. Not only was this important for Croatian language and culture but it also made the religion stronger within the Croatian nation. Mr.Gregory apparently also had a foot fetish and is quite prepared to bestow upon you good luck and grant your wishes if you give his big toe a good rub. If only he had been my co-passenger last night on the train. He would have been quite the happy chappie. Anyway, his big toe was nice and shiny as a result but the rest of his toes looked neglected. I felt a bit bad about that so gave all his toes a decent rub. I am hoping that earns me brownie points.

Then I hopped onto a bus and went to Kasjuni beach surrounded by pine trees and a lovely mountain back drop. After a quick swim it was time to head back to the bus station to catch my bus to Dubrovnik. I wanted to catch a late night one but that wasn't running that day. This means an extra, unplanned night's accomodation at some hostel. With just 1000 swiss francs with me and no way of withdrawing money from here, it's a scary proposition. I hope I have enough to last the trip. It doesnt help that Dubrovnik is supposed to be really expensive due to the influx of tourists. Otherwise it's the benches at the bus stop for me tonight....

Day 2, Split.... Part 1

Had dinner with Jelena at her mess, moussakka which was quite good. Had an interesting and enlightening conversation with her regarding the war. Then boarded the train to Split. The train was supposed to leave at 10.55 but finally decided to start rolling only at 11.55 or so.When I was saying good bye to Jelena at the station I thought I would impress her with all the European etiquette I had picked and say good bye in 'their' way. It's a dizzying process, touch your cheeks on th either side of theirs three times, all the while making kissing noises. At the end of it your brain is doing cartwheels. When I had finished the 2nd round of these exchanges and, dizzy and faint, proceeded for the third and final one I saw the look of murder in her eye. She looked like she wanted to take a traditional Croatian knife, stick it into my stomach and go to town exploring my insides. Apparently, and sensibly so, Croatians exchange 'fake kisses' only twice when saying good bye, and their 'not so friendly neighbours' Serbia, follow the rest of Europe (or Switzerland atleast) and do it thrice. Hence the look.

In the train, I was joined by a busybody grandad who seemed bent on giving his wife and grandkids the hardest time, lugging them and his million piece of luggage from one compartment to the next. He was soon replaced by a group of three students, part of a larger group, from the UK I think, judging from their language, one of which was a not bad-looking girl. I was soon half asleep, and was playing with my seat cushion (why, I have no idea, just those random things you do when you are half asleep I suppose). It was only when i woke up for some water later in the night that I realized that the 'cushion' was actually the girl's foot. Luckily, she was fast asleep and hadn't noticed that I had been giving her an unsolicited foot massage. I went back to sleep making sure my hands were nowhere near her or her feet, and prayed that we reach Split before I did something worse.

Day 1, Zagreb, Meeting with a Hired Assassin

The flight from Zurich to Zagreb was just one ham sandwich and a glass of coke long. We were landing even before I realized we had taken off! I first thought that the captain was just kidding but the flight is actually only that long.
Met a friendly American chap from Los Angeles, who surprise surprise, came and spoke to me because he saw the Lonely Planet guide in my hand. To all solo travellers looking for some company, my advice to them is to carry a LP in their hands. Within a minute someone is sure to come up to you and ask you about the stuff LP recommends. Anyway this chap said he works in some geo-politics thing, said he works for different governments on short term basis and has an 'independent contract' which gives him the freedom to work how he wants. His work has taken him to Iran, Iraq, and Afghanistan among other places. I suppose you must have reached the same conclusion as I have by now. He has to be a professional killer!! Anyway he was on his way to Sarajevo he said, so if there are any readers from there, and you are important, if you die in the next few days dont tell me I didnt warn you! We took the bus to the central station together after which he split to Split (he he..you can tell how much i wanted to use that phrase, cant you?).

I headed to my hostel, a quaint little thing at the outskirts close to the football stadium,called Ravnice. Had a late start to the morning after a good night's sleep and have been exploring the city since when i decided it s time to give my poor legs a rest. Zagreb is a heady blend of Eastern and Western Europe. There are examples of lovely baroque architecture and glum looking residential buildings, typical of eastern Europe all rolled into one.

The popular pastimes in the capital city include renovating buildings, driving in reverse all the time, parking on the pavement and abandoning vehicles in the middle of busy streets. The number of buildings getting a work over is simply astounding. Unfortunately, these also include some of the tourist attractions so I have't been able to see them in their full glory.

Considering that Croatia and Turkey are not really 'chaddi dosts' ( Turkey have been trying to invade Croatia since the medeival times and in the modern times, most recently in Euro 08, they have proven to be Croatia's nemesis in football) , there seem to be an awful lot of Turkish kebab restaraunts. The same is the case in Switzerlnd as well. I am convinced that kebab is the cornerstone of the Turkish foreign policy.

So , what have i done today? Visited the main churches of course, apart from roaming the streets of the old town and Maksimir, which is apparently the largest and most beautiful park in South East Europe. Also, visited the Mirogoj cemetery which is the most beautiful cemetrery in the world (yes, they have a beauty rating for cemeteries too it seems). It's outer walls are built like a fortress with giant cupolas on them . I dont know why though? Not like the people housed inside need any protecting, they are all protected by God now. I suppose it's a back-up just in case God fails. Also hunted for a place to cut my hair, bought apricots and cherries from Dolac fruit market and also this notebook called Moleskine. It's tagline says, 'the legendary notebook of Hemingway, Picasso, Chatwin'. I suppose they should add, 'and now also by a wannabe blogger'. The cost was a bit steep, but I like it, especially the elastic band and leather binding. But for me to hope that it improves my writing is taking it a bit too far don't you think?

Anyway, my hour is almost up now. Need to go resume my hunt for a salon/saloon or whatever and visit Lotrscak Tower for a 360¨panorama view of the city. Leave by train tonight to Split.

Bliss in Swiss in Croatia !!

Hello, As you might have guessed I am in Croatia on vacation for a few days. Not to fear, I will still try to keep keep you up to date with the mundane, day to day happenings in my life. It's way easier than writing a mail to each and every one of you anyway. Pictures will be missing from the posts I suppose but I'll add them once I am back home in Ruti. So stay tuned...

College Bakchodi

College Bakchodi

Director : Mohit Mahajan

Release date : 7th sem, 2007.

Genre : Comedy/ Drama/ Action/ Thriller/ Suspense/ No Romance Whatsoever

Tagline : Exam fever strikes Manipal !! Everybody beware...

Run time : 194 seconds

Location : Room 213, 7th block, MIT Hostels

Cast :

Aravind Kumar : Tragic hero
Shomik Dutta : Village idiot/ Country bumpkin
Mohit Mahajan : Voice that spurs the action on
Vaibhav Aiyar : Accomplice and fellow action 'spurrer'
Deepak Padmakumar : Villain/ Caffein addict

Plot and Review :

Aravind Kumar, in a stellar performance plays the very Shakespearean role of the tragic, fallen hero. An industrious, hard working, studious and intelligent Instrumentation and Control Engineering student ( that's an oxymoron right there) , the first scene shows this endearing character trying hard to prepare for the next day's examination. In walks the class dunce, Shomik, who didnt need to prepare much for his role. He just needed to be himself and the result as you can see is quite natural. There follows some brief exchange of dialogue which basically consists of double entendres. As the characters are built up right before your eyes, in walks the villain, Deepak Padmakumar. He plays his role with aplomb, and the viewer is immediately attracted to his persona. He manages to be endearing and repulsive at the same time.

It 's obvious that Deepak would do anything for coffee. Eyeing the flask at Aravind's table he plans and executes his strategy in a meticulous fashion, ably supported by his sidekick and confidant Vaibhav Aiyar. The ruthlessness with which he shreds to bits Aravind's notes is heartbreaking, a scene that will surely be a tear-jerker even for the coldest hearts. The next scene is downright disgusting. The impudence with which the shreds are scattered over Aravind's head and into his coffee, following which Deepak proceeds to drink the coffee is quite symbolic (symbolic of what? I have not a clue) . It may cause you to revulse and maybe even regurgitate the remnants of your last meal.

This is the last straw for Aravind. Consumed by passion, overwhelmed by anger, a catharsis takes place. Pent up emotions are released, violently. He resorts to violence and raises doubts as to the legitimacy of Deepak's relations with his female siblings. Thus falls our great hero, from the high esteem we held him in so far. Rage made him an animal(and not a domesticated one). This is what MIT does to people.

Mayhem ensues and there is a battle of epic proportions, following which like all good Indian movies, suddenly everything stops (no mothers accidentally killed in this one, that would just be cliched) and everybody lives happily ever after.

The End.

Rating out of 10 : That s for you to decide.

'Blowing' it Out of Proportion

Firstly, I must ask the Swiss to forgive me for I come from a land where blowing one's nose is regarded as an activity to be executed only under extreme neccessity , and that too rather surreptitiously, with a slightly embarrassed look on the face widely considered a must. This might come as a surprise to many non-Indians but though blowing one's trumpet is encouraged, blowing one's nose is looked down upon. It is to many the ugly step sister of more remarkable feats such as spitting out juicy, bright red ghutka on footpaths and other people's walls and ofcourse the holiest of holies, that act in which partake only the purest, thoroughbred gentlemen of the land, urinating in public.

So pardon me if I seem naive, maybe even ignorant but I just dont get it. The Swiss have taken this seemingly feral activity and elevated it to a position of such grandeur that many a time it is considered the test of a man's virility. This is not to say that women do not take part. This is an activity in which both sexes take part on the same platform, with equal enthusiasm and thefore fits perfectly with the Swiss attitude on women's rights.

If you know one thing about the Swiss, it's their inane drive for perfection. Just as as they ensure that their trains are punctual to the second, that their watches tell you the right time when you are sitting at 'The Restaraunt at the End of the Universe' a trillion years from now, that their chocolates and cheese taste just right, when it comes to nose-blowing too, achieving perfection is a matter very close to their hearts. Gone are the days when you would receive standing ovations for blowing it loud and hard for 5 minutes. Now, it's commonplace to hear Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker Suite or Beethoven's 9th Symphony, renedered to near perfection on what is at the end of the performance, very wet tissue paper almost annihilated beyond recognition.

In this quest, as in any other quest, the Swiss have had to face many obstacles, some of which you may term comical or even, dare I say it, farcical. Two prime examples spring to mind. One ofcourse is the infamous incident when a runny nose literally dampened the spirits of Mr.Wildmer Blowhard in the midst of performing his magnum opus, a 5 hour long self composition. The poor man was so distraught, his nose never recovered that timbre which had made him a household name. The other was when in a widely televised performance of the Swiss Nose Blowing Symphony Orchestra , the artist blowing the violin was completely out of tune. Later reports revealed that the performer in question had forgotten he didnt have a cold, and as is customary in such circumstances, forgotten to stick his head in a bucket of ice before the performance. Needless to say, he was fired on the spot. Tragically, he now makes ends meet by blowing Vivaldi's 'The Four Seasons' in front of Theatreplatz in Zurich and the Kunstmuseum in Luzern, depending on the public for alms.

Traditionalists fear that the death of this art is near. Gone are the days of the classical maestros they say. 'All you can hear coming out of those young ignoramuses' noses are the latest house hits, rap songs by bow wows, snoop dogs and other rappers with similarly demeaning names, and Sexy Back by Justin Timberlake' is an oft heard gripe. Others believe that this is the only way to attract the younger generation and hence necessary for it's survival. There are some more who believe that the way forward is to attract people from around the world. So far, the Italians have been most receptive to the concept of nose blowing as an art but they are still only taking baby steps. Connosieurs fear that the art will never have a big impact on Asian societies. Juliet Schneider, President of the SNOT ( Swiss National Organisation That nose blows) , known in her day for her long drawn out, extremely complex performances has another view and says the day of fusion performances with Western and Asian or Hindustani nose blowers is not far away. ' It will be a coming together of civilizations, of beliefs, of traditions like none have ever seen before' she says. The biggest obstacle? ' Asians believe in blowing their noses into handkerchiefs and as you very well know cotton never brings out the true musical quality of a blow. What they need is good quality tissue paper' Juliet concludes.

What do I think? I think it's blown out of proportion.