quake...

I realised that I never really did write much about my earthquake experience... Here's the link for the actual quake info . It was a 6.2 on the Richter scale. What I've also learnt from a friend of mine is that the scale is exponential (i.e. 7.0 is TEN TIMES stronger than 6.0)... and thats why the 7.6 Richter scale earthquake in 2005 in Pakistan was so deadly.

I was sleeping in the 4th floor apartment of a friend's house iin Islamabad when I thought I was dreaming that the bed was banging against the wall... turns out it was the wall that was banging against the bed! It felt as if I was in a dream as my legs shifted under me as I attempted to walk. The feeling on not standing on a surface that we take for granted to be "solid" is a feeling I cannot forget nor can I fully imagine what it must've been like when the 7.6 earthquake hit.

Family portrait

With all the talk of Gol Guppay on Facebook... here's an '80's family portrait I found in my grandma's house, when I most closely resembled a Gol Guppa (although this past trip to India is definitely giving my younger "healthier & big boned" days some competition!).

from 40 to 14 degrees...

before I forget: My UK mobi no. is +44-7952239218.
The Jet Airways flight into London was great as they have personal inflight entertainment (don't think dirty, think tv screen behind the seat in front of you and with ability to pause, rewind etc over a 100 viewing options including bollywood flicks). The slit-yer wrist downer was Babel and worth watching are Volver by Almodóvar and Happy Feet except the Disney-esque ending as the humans actually learn!

Its tough getting used to the lack of horns and day 'n night ambient noises. I can't decide if I'm missing them or if I'm relieved. Probably a lil' bit o' both.

So, I'm now adding the last batch of photos from Pakistan of which, this is one o' my fav's from Anarkali Market in Lahore. There are also two photos added to the end of the India Album

attack o' the Delhi belly...

be warned... THE FOLLOWING will CHURN your stomach.. stop reading if you have a) a weak stomach b) a sense of class and/or decency or c) something better to do!

This is one of the classic Indian experiences but not often discussed

(in mah overrated opinion, of course) I'm talking about Delhi Belly aka Montezuma's revenge

You still have time to skip this entry and look at the purty fotos under newest photos on the right side of this page.

Tracing the source of Delhi belly can go as far back at 48 hours... which in my world can be as many as 14 meals and snacks. Needless to say, I didn't figure it out! BUT the attack came on the Shatabdi train from Delhi to Dehra-Dun.The options... "western toilet" or "indian toilet". As there are only one of each per 70 or so passengers, I decided on the classic Indian toilet for sanitary reasons and, as a friend puts it, for shits and giggles. IF you clicked on the link for "indian toilet" then you have read the benefits of it.What I wanted to add (while burning wedding photos for relatives here) is the added drama of the squat toilet on an indian train.Unlike the european trains, desi trains have more horizontal movement and add an element of acrobatic balance while aiming for "the hole".The "modern" trains have graciously added a handle to hold on for dear life as the leaky wash-yer-bum tap (b.y.o.toilet paper) causes the entire steel loo floor to have as much grip as chopstix on gooey jello.THE reason to choose the squat toilet is to see how fast the train is moving... as you can see the ground through the hole. How's that for motivation?

feelin' hot hot hot

It was 42 degrees in Delhi yesterday with the forecast of 42 degrees and no clouds! So, compared to that, Dehra-Dun is a balmy 36 degrees upon arrival here today! :) The heat definitely has changed the rate at which this country operates... and understandably so!I should be back to steamy Delhi by Thursday, in time for my dentist's appointment... YAY! :) Ok.. delirium kickin' in.. so time to sign off.. with well wishes and cooler weather for all of ya'll. :) You can always bundle up in colder weather but only so much you can take off without causing permanent damage to all forms of life... in heat. ;)

And she grabbed my......

This was my closest interaction with the beautiful women of Pakistan in Pakistan... curious?Read on! So, Basit and one of his buddies took me out to Gelato Affair for coffee on one of my first nights in Islamabad. The evening was filled with tons of sugary coffees and ice cream... it was a moment to be captured in film.As most of you know, my digi has been unwillingly donated to a burglar in London, so it was back to the old film camera, a fact that I didn't realize had consequences for the latter part of the evening! Basit, being a growing celebrity, had some of the waiters talking to him and apparently he said that its quite common for people to just come up and speak to him or ask him for autographs etc.We got one of the waiters to take our photo with the gelato bar in the background (ALL the tables were behind the camera).A number of seconds after the photo was taken, a decently attractive woman in a hijab came up asking for my camera. I figured she wanted a photo with Basit but as she grabbed my camera, I realised she wanted my camera and kept looking for the LCD screen to see if we had taken her photo!Apparently, that was quite a huge deal to her and was ready to expose my film to keep a photo of hers from getting out.

As Basit, his friend, this lady, now her husband who's returned from making a phone call, his sister all got into an argument my thoughts turned to what it would be like in a Pakistani jail and how thats the ONE place I really didn't wanna visit for mistankenly taking a photo of this woman!All this, besides the fact that it was virtually impossible for us to take her photo without a SUPERwide lens as she sat at the back far corner of the Cafe. After what felt like an eternity with all of us up on our feet, arguing about what to do with the film and the camera, as I hung on to the camera strap while she tried fiddling with the camera, we had a rescuer.
He came to our rescue after the waiters, owner and tables from where we took the photo failed to calm her down.He was sitting with four or five other women, all of whom nodded their heads in agreement as he told this lady's husband that it would have been impossible for us to take HER photo without HIS ladies being photographed as her table was behind his (relative to ours) and he confirmed that we hadn't photographed them.So here's our photo!
Do you follow what I'm sayin' 'cuz I think I just confused myself. In the end, they left in a huff as I quickly put my camera away and we thanked the entire cafe for coming to our rescue.I've been a lot more conscious about taking photos since then!It was definitely eye opening in terms of how different man-woman relationships are in public in Pakistan.This includes the exclusion of women entirely at the local dhabas . They either have the food delivered or huddle in cars and eat.

Back in देल्ही॥ Delhi। देसी फॉण्ट मैं लिख रहा हूँ

this is crazy... so, I managed to figure out that I can type in hindi in the title but not sure whats happening with this text! Hope ya'll can read this in Inglis! :)
So, crossing the border was almost uneventful except for the fact that there is no standard 15 day grace period for Canadians or Americans, as claimed at the Ministry of Interior Wagha Border office! So, essentially I was at the mercy of the five Pakistani Immigration officers, who after a detailed explanation let me go back to India as long as I 1. don't take this higher as they let me go on "humanitarian" grounds (i.e. no need to find my way back to Lahore and sit in an office for another 15 days waiting for an extension) and 2. don't give or accept any offers to bribe someone to cross. Quite the heartstopping event, if any of you have dealt with the desi borders! Followed by paying a guy Indian Rupees 75 (CDN $2) to get me a seat on the train from Amritsar to Delhi. Followed by funnily enough... Pakistani styled kababs near the Red Fort.
My phone number again is 91-997-131-3281

Lahore and Photos

So, I've arrived in Lahore and thanks to Jamil Uncle that I've managed to upload all my photos to date (plus serious editing to keep ya'll from fallin' asleep, especially of the "scenic" shots of my ancestoral family villages).
The main updated albums are the Delhi album, now called INDIA and the new PAKISTAN album.

To keep ya'll awake... here's a photo from Holi. Hope you like the photos. If the top links dont work, then click on the "newest photos" link just to the right of this post and its ALBUM 20 and 22.

crazy days...

So, its been a few crazy days... that seems to be the
theme of this trip. Yesterday and today have been
quite uneventful... in bed with fever and chills, and
one short non-productive trip to the Ministry of
Interior to check the status of my visa extension. Of
course, it would be too much if the concerned folks
were actually there or someone who also had the
authority to tell me whats happenin'!

Anyways, before this, I got to go and see Nankana
Sahib Gurudwara, which seemed pretty bare but packs up
around Baisakhi time. Apparently it goes from the
three or four turbans I saw to so many that from an
aerial shot you cannot tell where the marble floor is!
A chance meeting of the Delhi Rotary Club delegation
and their (appropriately named )host, Dilshaad Shah,
led to an adventure with Dilshaad the following day to
two of my ancestral villages.
I'm not sure how far back one has to go for a village to be ancestral but I
figure the house where at-least my great-great-grandfather grew up qualifies in these times. Our trip to Bhaun and Murid were filled with love-filled embraces from people who remembered not necessarily my grandparents but Sikhs like them and missed their company post-partition. I cannot help but think of the millions that perished not only in the Indo-Pak partition violence but in the cross border journey. It was a weird, not necessarily disturbing sensation watching Hindu Mandirs and Sikh Gurudwaras now converted to houses.

Many things happened during Partition and although those wounds may have never completely healed, I felt nothing but love for having visited. It was incredible how many people went out of their way and showed us around.

Chachaji Fateh Khan, a
burly dark stocky many with a massive turban which
looks like its constantly fighting a battle with
gravity and winning, took more than 6 hours just to
show us around from village to village AND tea at the
local truck stop. And this just after asking him for
directions! Thanks to Dilshaad Hussain Shah and also
to Munna Bhai (not from the movie) who took me for the
coolest tour of Purana Qilla in Rawalpindi on a
needle-haystack search of my great-grandfather's IRAN
HOUSE store!

So, now the plan is to go to Lahore tomorrow and move
onto India a few days later. Inshahallah!

lack of visa's and quakes

I've been having issues checking my own blog... so
hopefully this works... Here's a lil' bit of an
update... at this point, looks like being born in
Bombay is causing a bigger deal than we all thought!
So, I'm being "checked out" by the Pak equivalent of
the FBI & CIA and wait for their answers regarding if
I'm a "threat" in the northern areas and will have to
wait anywhere from a week to 3 months for an answer.
In the meantime, my 15 day visa expired on Sunday and
am on their "Grace period", which is only good for
non-Indian applicants! Thanks! :P But ironically, the
reason they're checking me out in the first place...
is my Indian birth. Somebody should tell General
Musharraf and Manmohan Singh about that! Manmohan
Singh (prime minister of India) was born in what is
now Punjab IN PAKISTAN, and Musharraf was born in
INDIA!!!
Ok.. now that thats off my chest...
I felt my first earthquake yesterday while sleeping on
the 4th floor (generally, the higher up the more you
feel it). I'll write more about how that felt... but
certainly is scary when the realisation that even
ground ain't solid hits. Fragility is such an
important part of the human condition and yet why do
we so often feel falsely invincible?



Did I mention how much of this particular weed I saw growing just outside the US Embassy in Islamabad? :) LOL... you gotta see it to believe it!

still waitin'...

so.. here I am... still waitin'... a lil' fatter and a lot of new experiences... and of course La Ley de Murphy (Murphy's Law) is in full effect here!

1. I can't post directly to my blog with photos as this cafe doesnt have Firefox (MUCH better than explorer)...

2. Being born in Bombay is apparently a crime that involves SERIOUS looking into... very annoying and ironic considering the person giving me the initial permission to volunteer in Pakistan is a Pakistani Army Lt. General! So a country that is essentially under Military rule cant get me to a military zone because a beaurocrat needs to "look into my background because of my place of birth". Ironic point #2: My ancestors are from what is now the Pakistani side of Punjab, not more than 100 kms from where I sit now!

3.Its been the best waiting time ever I could have hoped for... more on that later... but it involves sticking my hand in "Saheli's" mouth, an 18 year old beauty of an elephant belonging to the family of a new friend, Kash to hangin in the sound studio for a live recording at Pakistan Television, supervising the mixing for another new friend and fantastic Sufi musician (think Amitabh's deep voice in his younger days except with classical raga talent!)... Arieb Azhar to hangin' in Lahore and getting massaged by burly men at 3 am while eating great Karahi chicken on the street in Laxmi Chowk to seeing two of my fav living qwalli groups (Sher Ali Mehr Ali and Rahat Fateh Ali Khan) in the Lahore stadium to hangin' with the Aussies at the Aussie Club to driving the Islamabad roads and driving on the wrong side and no one really honking as folks do that here! :)

But more on that later... time to get down to what I came here to do... build strawbale houses... inshahallah (and more on that word also... it certainly doesn't mean "God Willing" here!!!)