samosa in vienna

two days in vienna and all i had seen was the office the nearest station, matzleindorferplatz the connecting station sudbanohf and the airport ofcourse....yes i forgot to mention the high tech lighting in toliets, there is a laser dectector that switches on light automatically the moment you enter the loo....i was impressed. i went inside to relieve myself with book, i wanted to finish the short story that was interupted by the timely landing of flight in vienna, so i was sitting quietly engrossed in the story dying to know if mr parson will be able to buy that rare old precious furniture for dirt cheap and sudennly light goes off, and i try to look up and even before i had expressed my frustration the lights turn on again...i get back to mr parson and after 30 seconds lights go off again....thats when i realised that theres i cant even shit peacefully here and i ended up sitting there waving one hand in the air to the detector "heloooo i am still here...hang in there please" in the last 5 visits that i have made to the loo now i have made friends with the detector so i dont just wave my hands, i talk to him, discuss my problems, share potty jokes etc...it made my shitting easy and filled with light.....

finally second day evening i went out to a meeting in downtown where there was free booze and food i thot would be a good idea to try some austrian cuisine, the meeting dint make any sense to me as every one was speaking german, its sounded like they are talking with hundred safety pins stuffed in their mouth, so i kept myself busy with beer waiting for the meeting to end dinner to start, when the food was being served i saw something that reminded me of samosa, and i coud not believe myself when i actually tried one, it was a fuckin samosa man, i was eating a samosa in vienna of all places, in a gala buffet, austrians relishing samosa with wine..the taste was little bland with almost no masalas in it, i ended up asking someone what the dish is called and they refused to acknowledge that it was samosa that had taken over the tastebuds of around 55 people that evening, they said some name which after repeated attempts i could neither pronounce nor remember..

but my friends, once a samosa always a samosa, if a samosa is called matzleindorferplatz it wont change the soul of samosa...will it?? no, never, i am proud to see our samosa standing on its feet in vienna, its come a long way indeed...

beer cricket and paki supporters

After missing the three eventfull matches that took secured india a berth in the final i was feeling ashamed of myself, i missed the 6 sixes of yuvraj, i missed india beating australia, i missed india beating south africa, if my dad comes to know about this he will disown me, how cud i do this to him and to cricket and all because of this stupid hotel in which i was staying which had a 14 inch tv and it looked even more smaller i mean a nokia n72 screen would look bigger in comparison after a couple of drinks, and to add to the misery it only showed 4 channels bbc 1&2 and channel 4& 5 channel 3 was blank and so were the other channels. I had made up my mind that i have to see the final even at the cost of selling my hotel rooms mini tv, tim in office suggested that i take a bus and go to houston station and i wud surely find some pubs showing the macth on big screen.

Bus no 73 took me to huston station where i got down at ucl college and after roaming around for fifteen minutes and asking people frantically where on earth can i see the match please please...try to understand its india playing pakistan in a world cup final, these encounters are made in heaven and like haileys comet only once in your life time would you see this phenomena happening, but to my surprise in a country which gave birth to this game (i dunno who the father is, may be cricket is a bastard) i cud not find a single soul to help me with finding a venue to see the game, why does england even bother to play cricket when people just dont care???

i walked past spearmint rhino which was exactly on my opposite side and heard a roar, to my left was a pub, "court" and there was a big screen and there were some sardarjis and cricket. i got myself a pint of guniess beer said hi to all the sardars and got on with the match....first floor of the court was filled with paki supporters and ground floor with indian, every indian wicket was cheered with whistles above and every boundry scored by us was cheered by louder screams, there was too much tension flowing, it was a feeling as if india loses that match then i would be captured and made a prisoner of war for the rest of my life and asked to break shahbad marble stones smuggled in to pakistan from india, there was only one door to get out of the pub, there were some paki supporters standing right next to the door so if pakistan loses the they will leave immedietely but if india lost...i and other sardarjees will have to pass through that door with eyes looking at our heads down....no i dint want that to happen...

6 runs scored of 2nd ball in last over and i gulped down my beer and stood next to the door in a get set go position waiting for the whistle...and then the catch....i dont know how loud was my scream cos there were more drunk sardarjees in their, i got a free beer from a surd who was on cloud nine, and i like a gentleman was shaking hands with every pakistani supporter leaving the pub saying "good match man, wel played, win or lose it was a good match" bang came the reply from one guy, "yeah good match, had we won it still would have been a good match"....

this is one match i will remember forever....

where are the people

after a 9:35 min flight from delhi to heathrow i arrived as fresh as a lettuce right out of the farm, jetlagged?? what is it, i have had 16 hour journey on a bus bumping its way to glory and my knees folded up to my chin, either i am too tall for an indian or whoever designs theese buses are just jealous of my height. so slept on the plane and slept well for 6 hours. after an hour at the immigration counter i had to find my way to the underground metro which is called tube in london, finding my wasn't difficult as i can read better than i can write, it was a 76 minutes journey on the piccadilly line the changing to victoria line and finally making my way through tunnels and stairs and escalators i was under the open sky in london, islington and the first thought that came to mind was......beautiful (thats what you thought, dint u??) but no the first thing i said was "bhenchod saare log gaye kahan??" coming from delhi and bombay when you get of the airport and try to breathe there will be hundreds who will walk over you, but here in islingtonempty streets stood gazing at me, my be they were welcoming me or may be saying "what the fuck are you staring at dude?? just get on with hunting the address you r gonna have a tough time" and i did.

The 7th person in 5 minutes i approached told me that i was supposed to go left, god bless his soul he looked like an asian and turned to be a bangladeshi. what???? yea...so i was right he was an asian what u guys thinkin about, a walk for 10 minutes more and i asked a lady who was busy pursuing her dog to poop who looked like suffering from constipation or may be the freezing weather made things difficult, for the dog i mean but she dint knew. then i spotted a bakery selling burgers and rolls for 2 pounds n it looked like a place where hungry souls in office might be paying a regular visit and i was right again...so 9 people on the road in 20 minutes at 10:30 in the morning in northeast london.................phew.

what will happen if islington station becomes andheri station????