Fast Rides and Slow Food

It was Dussehra and while most people were huddled in their blankets they recently took out because of the change in weather, and secure in the knowledge that evil would be defeated later that evening, I snuck out from home with my cycle to meet up with Vivek and Mukesh and do something 'different' on Dussehra. We decided that we'd play it by ear. But first we did something very 'normal' and flew down the slick new Gurgaon Faridabad Expressway, but then quickly decided against a fast road ride in favor of some good chai at Qutab Minar. 

On the way we decided to do a tour of Radhey Mohan Drive just to see how the average Delhi 'farmer' is faring in an area of Delhi that does not look anything like an area of Delhi. Just watching all the folks enjoying their morning walks there, we quickly came to the realization that the people who are really living it up are the caretakers, cooks and gardeners who work for the 'farmers' at their 'farmhouses'. 

When we got to Qutab Minar we voted against JUST chai, and headed into the Mehrauli Market in search of something more substantial and after a little of bit asking we found our way to the locally acclaimed Suresh Halwai.

Suresh Halwai

We arrived there at around 7:30am and left a little after 8:30 as we worked our way through three courses of piping hot Kachoris, Samosa and Puri sabji.

Samosa, Kachori and Puri

After each course we would order a round of chai and then agree that we should be on our way home. At this point Suresh would dejectedly look at us and ask us to wait a few minutes, then shout at a group of young boys and men (all called Chotu) and tell them to bring whatever was coming out of the frying pans (hot puris, samosas etc.) right away. And so the 15 minute stop stretched into a three course breakfast where we watched the hubbub of the Mehruali market on a particularly busy day. This too did not feel anything like Delhi. It felt like the Sadar Bazaar of some small town in Western UP.'

"I don't have a  shop name board - just ask for Suresh Halwai"

There were two small shops just selling Gurdh (Molasses). All types of Gurdh including the Khajur variety. Everyone was selling sugarcane shoots since this was a requirement for the local version of Dussehra puja. The local Mehrauli Theatrical society had posters letting people know that they would be staging a play very soon, and the local politician (I can't remember the name but it was something like - Pappu or Chiku) has put up several posters proclaiming his ever lasting gratitude to Rajesh Khanna for all the great songs and movies. 

We did eventually manage to leave the place, even though Suresh's workers manning the hot tawa were trying to get us to hang around to taste the Jalebi and Imarti. 

Imarti on its way

Ride stats and stuff here -

Taking Notes in Patna

From where I was standing it looked like the Sabji wallah’s one eye was examining the note and the other was locked on me. This had happened more than once in the last week. It was only now while I was paying the 80 rupee vegetable bill with a 500 rupee note did I realize that he he wasn’t inspecting the note. He was inspecting my reaction to his inspecting the note.

Last week the local ATM decided that since the economy is heading down the drain it would only spew out 500 rupee notes, and that the humble hundred rupee note was beneath its dignity. In Patna, where the use of a credit card is like a minor road accident in that everyone drops whatever they are doing for a spot of drama and ‘edutainment’, cash is clearly king. However this respect is only given to those who dole out appropriately sized bills, and and not if you attempt to intimidate the shop keeper with high value currency notes that, in his opinion, have a bloody good chance of being fake.



It’s likely that he may have read some public service advert about identifying fake notes. It’s more likely that he heard a story from his fellow shopkeepers about how Pakistan is flooding the Indian markets with fake 500 and 1000 rupees notes that have the Indian flag missing on them, that have signatures of Osama Bin Laden in place of the RBI governor, or that if you look closely at Gandhiji’s picture you’ll see a FCUK label on the side of his specs.

His knowledge about fake currencies may not be great, but what he does know is how to read his customer. So once you hand him your 500 rupee bill, he’ll let you know that he doubts you, and especially your money. He’ll face you, hold up the bill in front of your face, attempt to examine the note, but really keep his eyes on you for any signs that most polygraphs would fail to pick up. He will hold it like that for what seems like a long time (but is really just about 2 seconds) and then when he sees that you haven’t cracked under the pressure and made a run for it, and that you are instead quite insulted by this behaviour, he will give you your change and wish you a good day.

Is Seattle a Hilly City?

It’s not entirely clear how the whole debate started but it took place over noodles and ghar ka khana (home made food) in the lunch room of our India office. In the way that lunch time conversations meander, this one started from Chelsea’s  impressions of Delhi (she was visiting from Seattle), tips on good tourist shopping places in Delhi, and then somehow arrived at the topic of hilly cities. Basically Chelsea said Seattle was hilly, and James chuckled “Hilly? Seattle is not Hilly.”, while Ankur, Narendar and I looked on. The conversation was summarized in an email as follows:

------------------------------------------------------------
From: Anand
Sent: Wednesday, February 08, 2012
To: James Chelsea, Ankur; Narender
Subject: Queen Anne Challenge


Recording the terms of the wager between James Moore (hereafter referred to as the contestant) and Chelsea Minkler (hereafter referred to as Wagee(??))


The challenge is for the contestant  to climb the Queen Anne road as indicated in the attached map (http://www.gpsies.com/map.do?fileId=zyktdkkczybudqmx) in a manner that may henceforth exemplify Seattle as a “not very hilly city”


Route of 2.7km to be done on two wheeled human powered bicycle


Stops allowed only for compliance with local road traffic laws and customs


Ride to be done on or about May 15^th 2012


If Mr. Moore completes the above mentioned ride without excessive perspiration – Ms. Minkler to provide bottle of drinking water and 25 cents to contestant, and box of doughnuts from Crispy Crème or other superior doughnut producer for contestant and third party arbitration committee – namely Narender, Ankur and Anand.


In the eternal fight between man and gravity – may the best party win.
-----------------------------------------------------

As the date of the ride got closer, it got clearer that neither side would climb down from the wager. James said he felt bad about taking the doughnuts and Chelsea’s hard earned quarter – “nolo contendere…” but that he would do the ride. Chelsea complained that we had concealed the fact that James was a professional cyclist who’d climbed the Andes, Himalayas and Rockies and was not likely to find a hill in Seattle much of a challenge. But she was going to stick to her point - Seattle was hilly. The three judges meanwhile made preparations to eat doughnuts.

Eventually at the end of Home Week in Seattle the wager was staged. James showed up in his cycling shorts and complained about the cycle that Chelsea had organized - it was cheap, was small and meant for a short rider, badly maintained etc, but James apologized later on when he learnt that it had been borrowed from her boyfriend.




The duellers shook hands in the presence of judges and security.



And the ride sort of started, with James stopping along the way to ask directions and/or chat with friends.



Chelsea and I went ahead in the car and indeed the route was steep and hilly.



But James made light work of it. As he emerged at the top of the climb he had a puzzled look – “Is that it??”



Chelsea accepted defeat graciously, and James was forgiving



But a wager is a wager, and the quarter was duly handed to the victor



Followed by doughnuts,



And everyone agreed that Top Pot was indeed superior to Crispy Creme



A big thanks to James and Chelsea for being good sports and seeing the wager to the end.

And in the end Chelsea – it doesn’t matter how easy James may make it look, we all know that Seattle IS a hilly city.

Researchers and Managers

One of my favorite stories that captures perfectly the relationship between researchers and managers. I know. I’ve been in both places. 

A woman in a hot air balloon realized she was lost. She reduced altitude and spotted a man below. She descended a bit more and shouted:

'Excuse me, can you help me? I needed to get home an hour ago but I don't know where I am..'

The man below replied, 'You're in a hot air balloon hovering approximately 30 feet above the ground. You're between 40 and 41 degrees north latitude and between 59 and 60 degrees west longitude.'

'You must be an Researcher,' said the balloonist.

'I am,' replied the man, 'how did you know?'

'Well,' answered the balloonist, 'everything you have told me is probably technically correct, but I've no idea what to make of your information and the fact is, I'm still lost. Frankly, you've not been much help at all. If anything, you've delayed my trip by your talk.'

The man below responded, 'You must be in Management.'

'I am,' replied the balloonist, 'but how did you know?'

'Well,' said the man, 'you don't know where you are or where you're going. You have risen to where you are, due to a large quantity of hot air. You made a promise, which you've no idea how to keep, and you expect people beneath you to solve your problems. The fact is you are in exactly the same position you were in before we met, but now you blame it all on Research.'

Aspirations and Inventiveness: Bettiah’s Getting Better

 
When Nehru visited Bettiah in West Champaran, North Bihar to inaugurate one of India’s first hydropower plants, he envisioned that Bettiah would become the fifth metro of India. According to him the list should have read Delhi, Mumbai, Calcutta, Madras and Bettiah. Unfortunately Bettiah didn’t realize that dream, but it has some other things going for it.

Valmiki Nagar - Bihar’s only Project Tiger Reserve and probably one of the most pristine forests in north India is located towards the north of the district. Although there’s only one old inspection bungalow where you can stay near the park, the government of Bihar has announced recent plans to provide some tourist infrastructure and they even want to have a celebrity brand ambassador to promote the park (like Mr.B is doing for Gir and Gujarat I guess).

On the outskirts of town on the smooth new road connecting Bettiah to Patna is a Korean / Japanese restaurant. The thing is, it's not one of those Punjabi-Chinese or Bihar-Chinese places. It’s an authentic Japanese restaurant, serving things like Sushi, Tempura, Domburi and other things you wouldn’t expect in the corner of the universe. And to ensure that things are done just so, it’s run by a Korean chef. With better roads and connectivity and the growing influx of Buddhist circuit tourists, seeing places like this dotted across the state is not a surprise.

Another pleasant surprise is the Ramnagar Primary Health Center (PHC) that I recently visited. In my mind it offers a shining example how the public sector is getting its act together.  The place is run by Dr. Kiran Jha. He’s very proud and involved in this new posting, and he should be given that this place was once run by his father who was also a doctor here, and given that he was born in its wards. But somewhere down the line, much like the history of the entire state, the place went to the dogs.  Over time, more and more of the PHC buildings fell apart and were abandoned, fewer staff were working there, and the center was essentially used as a venue to channel patients to the private clinics of various health providers in the town. Eventually the PHC became more commonly referred to as the bus stand, since local bus and taxi operators had taken over the large compound.

Over the last year or so, however things have changed, and what’s been notable is the resourcefulness of the PHC staff, and the simple fact that unlike many other PHCs that I’ve recently  visited, no one here was complaining that they didn’t have the funds or resources to improve the place. Dr. Kiran Jha and his team have realized that they can make huge changes with what they already have, it’s just a matter of being inventive.

After cajoling the bus operators to move out, the first thing they did wasn’t improve ward hygiene or something important like that. No, instead they hired a gardener and got many of the buildings painted – so that people would know that they PHC was operational and would start walking in again. They found an old metal stretcher, welded two poles to it and used it as a new sign board at the main entrance. They emptied out the rubble from one of the condemned buildings, put in some wooden planks found in the old pharmacy building and turned it into a patient’s waiting area. With some help from our colleagues at CARE they have made dramatic improvements to the actual functioning of the wards, the labor room and operations theatre. Dr Jha pulled out his iPad and started showing us ‘before and after’ photos of the place and records of how the client footfalls had dramatically increased, as had doctors and nurse attendance, and talked about a twitter campaign to draw attention to their success and their needs. This is my little plug for Dr Jha and team.

Seeing things like this make you realize that the changes happening in Bihar are real. Even if they are small and sporadic, they are happening.

Mr Sanghvi - Journo or Socialite

There's something odd going on in the Sunday Hindustan Times. It bothered me a little to start with but it has become a clear and present danger. In case you haven't noticed it, I am talking about the Jekyll and Hyde act that Mr Sanghi does in its pages.

He usually write the lead editorial in the broad sheet. This is consistently a piece that is extremely well researched, presents a unique viewpoint that is easy to understand and support. 

And then you turn to the Brunch magazine and his Rude Food section suddenly turns him into some aspiring socialite, desperately trying to drop names and references to his having lived the high life. Objectivity is thrown to the wind and what we end up with is a almost a personal vendetta or proclamations of ever lasting friendship that should really be restiricted to his personal letters and not for publication. 

If you jumble the letter in his name it becomes "Raving Shiv".