11:11:11 11-11-11
It’s been ages since I posted something on this blog, so I thought today would be a nice day to post some updates. It seems to be an auspicious day given that we have a string of 11′s in the day’s meta description. I’m sure you get what I am talking about because apparently, according to one of those website analysis software, the average reader of this blog has a university degree. So congratulations.
Anyway, in the midst of all this rambling, I do want reiterate what some folks might have missed few years back.
- You are reading Priyank’s personal blog.
- For travel stories, please go to Priyank’s travel blog (and update your bookmarks, RSS feeds, etc.)
Okay now that I’ve made it abundantly clear what this post, and by extension this blog, is about, I can start by giving you few updates from this year. Not that anyone necessarily cares about it but given that its my blog, I can write anything I want. It’s useful because I can guilt trip my friends by saying “What? You haven’t read my blog? I wrote it there!” Tee-Hee!
Wandering
So as you may know, I went on two major trips this year, the first one was a trip to Mexico in January and recently I travelled to Ecuador in September and October. I also intermittently taught myself Spanish, while biking to and fro from work, using those audio CD lessons, but my oratory skills were greatly improved only by travelling to Latin American countries. Now I can speak like a five year old child, almost. I like Spanish, I will learn more of that language for the simple reason that it makes travel to South America, easily reached from Toronto, an exciting affair. Let me throw in a picture or two from my trips.
Besides these long haul vacations, I took smaller excursions, such as going to Timmins by bus, my partner’s hometown about 800km from here, or to a place near Sault Ste. Marie, on the shores of Lake Huron 600km from here. Lots of bike trips too, to places like Port Credit.
Home
Something interesting happened to me earlier this year around February/March. It was a sunny day with clear blue sky and subzero temperature, one of those days when it looks deceptively summer-like until you step out and its -20ºC or so. I popped out of my gym and turned into a lane, my daily route, nothing special. But then there was this flash, this fraction of a second, a moment of revelation during which I looked up at the sky and saw a part of the CN tower hidden behind a building. Suddenly I had goosebumps and the first thought that occurred to me was “Ah, home.”
That’s how long it took, about 4.5 years, for Toronto to feel like it was home. No passports or citizenship cards can evoke a fuzzy, emotional feeling like that. I will stop rambling now else I’ll start sounding like a hippie.
“We have to buy a house!” I came home and declared to my partner, who is kinda used to ignoring my spontaneous outbursts like that. “Umm, sure.”
So eventually in July this year, we bought a house, it was a stressful process, but we did it. A place to call home. It’s a nice old Victorian house with lots of character located at the end of a quiet street. Backyard, high ceilings, downtown, good vibe and most importantly, it fit into the budget.
In another milestone, I turned 30 this August, and now I won’t frown if someone calls me old. I also spot myself saying things like “During our childhood, we had two TV channels” something that “today’s generation” will find difficult to comprehend. Or get this, I didn’t have a computer till I was 18.
Alright now you have caught up with the important things in my personal life. Now off you go.
Someone predicted Apocalypse or Judgement day or Doomsday today. So I thought of blogging about my experience of this day.
Dear readers,
As you may know, American Christian radio host Harold Camping declared (after extensive research of the Bible and complex mathematical calculations) that today, May 21, 2011 would mark the beginning of the end of the world as we know it. The five-month process would start today with Rapture (the phenomenon in which God selects people who go to heaven and leaves the rest to suffer), also known as the Day of Judgement and culminate on October 21, 2011 when the world will be destroyed.
Besides being completely puzzled why this said God, the possessor of supernatural powers, would take the pain to come to earth only with the intent of destroying it, I am also curious to know about the significance of this particular date. But should the said prophecy come to fruition, I wanted to be among the select few souls who were enthusiastically documenting their last day on earth.
Innocent Dandelions early in the morning, oblivious to the fact that they’d be dead soon. Do plants get raptured? How do things without a ‘soul’ go to the heaven?
00:20 Bed time
“Oh this is my last sleep,” I thought as I snuggled under the sheets. The air was warm and humid. Meteorologists said that this was due to warm air current from the south but what do they know! I think its just a signal indicating His arrival. Ah well, I better be fully rested before the big day tomorrow… Good night fellow humans…
05:00 Alarm goes off
What the hell, its my last day… I am going to sleep in. [Dismisses the alarm]
06:00 Wake up
Noise on the street outside woke me up, plus my natural body clock won’t let me sleep any longer. So I decided to wake up and continue this entry.
07:35 Eat a grapefruit
After pretending to do some Yoga followed by some intimate romantic activity and a quick shower, I ate a small breakfast consisting of toast, jam and a grapefruit. I thought it would be wise to have some healthy food before I die because who knows what would happen next. The day was gorgeous and since I was going to be home alone, I decided to get out and experience the world as I knew it.
08:19 Caffination
I’m not sure if that’s even a word but perhaps I could leave humanity with an invention on the last day. I would have spent $100 on an espresso (since money wouldn’t matter tomorrow) but the cute Barista at the independent fair trade organic coffee shop would accept only 2% of that. The cafe was deserted, I wondered what other people were doing.
09:55 Nothing happened yet
It was 22:55 in Japan and I hadn’t heard of any disaster of doomsdayesque proportion yet. The sun was about to set in India and I imaged my friends heading out to eat and my parents setting up a camp in the Himalayas where they are trekking right now. There is activity in the cafe and I can see some guys conversing with each other, accompanied by very animated gestures and random bursts of laughter in between. Meanwhile I was composing a story on Mexico for my travel blog.
11:31 Yard sale
A streetcar (tram) broke down right outside the cafe and a repair crew came to attend it while people watched with curiousity and kids screamed in excitement. I’m sure this would become a top story for Toronto’s evening news which is otherwise filled with headlines of a cat trapped on the roof or a mother who saver her daughter from getting crushed under a speeding car. Yes, that’s sometimes even a national news story in Canada, a cheerful reminder how peaceful and uneventful my new motherland can be. I got tired of the commotion and wanted some fresh air so I decided to pay a visit to Mariellen, author of the book Song of India and my newest blog-friend, who was holding a yard sale in the neighbourhood.
13:12 Chickpeas and tamarind sauce
Lunch, accompanied by some lemon tea and followed by a banana, made me drowsy so I decided to take a nap. I also made elaborate biking plans to meet my sweetheart at Port Credit and watch the sunset while having dinner in the village by the lake. The doomsday is expected to hit this timezone precisely at 18:00. Who knows what’ll happen.
15:26 Cycling
Instead of taking a nap I did some cleaning, sorted the laundry and drank copious amount of ginger tea. I have 150 minutes left until doomsday hits Toronto and I plan to spend the first 90 minutes biking along the shore of Lake Ontario enjoying the cool breeze and warmth of the spring sun. It’s such a beautiful day! I’m happy the Rapture is occurring on a cheerful day like that. This God is naughty; everyone is enjoying the day but little do they know what devilish plans He has in store for them…
17:20 Seagulls and Tulips
It was a perfect day to bike on the waterfront trail cutting through parks, idyllic neighbourhoods and suburban commercial zones. I reached Port Credit and sat on a large stone on the water side of the board walk, where no soul dared to go (because there was a fence). I sat there watching a flock of seagulls hover over an old ship far away and some playful swans swimming around the shore near me. A cloud of tiny bugs flew past me towards a patch of red and yellow tulips that were dancing in the gentle breeze on the other side of the boardwalk.
18:00 Doomsday strikes!
Well, it was supposed to, but nothing happened. I guess I got left behind to suffer with other fun loving people. 
19:22 Organic dinner
Appetizer: Green kale leaves seasoned and dehydrated until crispy
Main 1: A mix of kelp and zucchini noodles tossed in a light tangy maca infused almond butter based sauce with red pepper, fresh cilantro, romaine lettuce, red onions and topped with spiced almond bits.
Main 2: Spicy taco salad with avocados, spiced sundried tomatoes, beet-tomato salad, red pepper, red onions, dairy-free cream dressing, etc.
Dessert: Gluten-free dairy-free Chocolate Banana cake.
I think that was a very wisely chosen meal, celebrating the fact that we were left behind to enjoy life and the world as we knew it.
22:18 Back home
I guess the day is nearly over… but I am holding my horses. I have to be alert for another 100 minutes. We are going out to a bar now, to see some friends and have a good time in general; celebrate this silly day.
07:07 Sunday, May 22, 2011
I AM ALIVE!! I was so relieved to wake up with the sound of Church bells ringing in my head! I don’t know if the sound was real or just a dream.
“Ah, a message from God denouncing the thoughtless Apocalypse prediction of yesterday?” I wondered.
Hope we don’t fall victims to such propaganda in future. This ends my diary entry.
Live long and prosper.
- – -
I’ll update this post frequently today. If I stop updating it, assume one of the following:
- I have been Raptured (i.e. chosen to go to heaven, where 72 virgins await me. No wait, that’s the Islamic version.) But as you know, this is very unlikely as I am not baptised as a Christian. But I did follow (i.e. visit) Jesus Christ from his birthplace at Bethlehem to his childhood in Nazereth and youth in Galilee, to his final journey (Stations of the cross) in Jerusalem. Maybe that will give me some brownie points….??
- I have not been chosen to go to Christian heaven. Instead, I am still on Earth but there is no internet access because the satellites have been destroyed.
Disclaimer: It probably sounds like I am mocking today’s doomsday prediction. I want to make it very clear that this post IS meant to be offensive and insulting to those who believe that billions of people should die just because they do not believe in a particular deity.
Amateur ‘observations’ about social status and skin colour in the Mexican society
I was sitting at a at a bus station cafeteria in Mexico City last week in front of a big screen TV that was playing advertisements. There were several familiar (US/international) brands and products and then a lot brands that were unknown to me. While I sat there for over 30 minutes waiting for my bus and drinking “cafe negro”, a I sensed a distinct pattern emerging from the commercials.
They were all depicting fair skinned models; or showing aspirations to be like them.
Now had this happened in India, I wouldn’t have bat an eyelid. Indian society generally worships the pale skin; this fact is known, accepted and I have, unfortunately, gotten over it. But perhaps it was my innocence and naivety about Mexican society that left me kinda shocked and surprised. I know, its ironical.
In particular, there was this commercial showing an unhappy dark skinned native “Indian” woman wearing a traditional dress, washing clothes in a rural setting. She isn’t able to get the dirt off her fabric. Then comes a blond lady wearing a chic western outfit, bright lipstick, fake Colgate smile and holding a package of some detergent (it wasn’t to clean her teeth I hope). She gives the detergent to the native woman. The cinematography depicted it in a way as if a saint was granting a divine gift – with a halo around the saint and the product, and an expression of “Thank you for coming to my rescue!” on the native woman’s face.
Predictably, the fabric is now free of dirt and the native woman is shown wearing a western outfit, lipstick, fake Colgate smile and is also magically two shades fairer.
While I don’t claim to have any authority whatsoever on Mexican social structure, I did notice that majority of the people are mestizos, i.e. of mixed Spanish and Native descent. Then there are people that look a lot “whiter” and there are people who look quite “darker” but are not necessarily black. While I was wandering in the richer neighbourhoods of Mexico city such as Polanco, the “whiteness” of the place was quite evident as opposed to traveling in second or third class buses in Yucatan where strangely I was probably the fairest guy. So it seems to me that there is certainly some form of economic distortion based on skin colour. That commercial showed everything wrong with the attitude that reinforces the idea that fairer is better – in India, Mexico and several other places.
This is neither a new phenomenon, nor is the world an ideal place, but mainstreaming the adoration of a particular skin tone, or linking it to purity, prosperity and beauty, certainly upsets me.
[photo: florianstamm]
On the new year’s eve, I was walking with some friends around the party blocks along Queen street west, near my house. It was an hour or so before midnight but people were already drunk, yelling and acting funny, but nothing unusual. I’m used to this since I live just outside the nightclub zone.
Around the block were a couple of high-end night clubs. As we approached, we couldn’t but feel the difference in the clientele. A limousine drew in front of us and three young guys jumped out with bottles of liquor in their hands. They looked like teenagers, or perhaps in their very early 20′s. They discarded their bottles of liquor in the backyard of a house because there were some police cars ahead.
As I walked further, I saw four girls getting out of a taxi. They were drenched with makeup, wore shiny tight skirts and high heels. All of them were obviously drunk. Bunch of guys yelled cat calls at them from the window of another taxi. Some verbal exchanges ensued.
Then there were lots of police cars (which was what piqued our curiosity in the first place) at the corner. They had cordoned off the area and were expelling patrons from a nightclub. I felt really really old because everyone around me seemed to be barely legal teenagers or in their very early 20s. They were all obviously loaded and very fancily dressed. Why were they being expelled from the nightclub? Overcrowding? Alcohol poisoning? Drugs? Assault? No idea but anything could have happened in there.
The young bunch was drunk and wild. There was lot of kissing, groping, fondling, hands inside pants and what I would describe as “bedroom behaviour” going on. And for a reason, all the girls appeared drunk beyond control, and the guys appeared sober. Something was unbalanced.
I usually strive to deconstruct gender and dismiss notions of “a man’s job” v/s “a woman’s job.” Hence, incidents like this bother me. Why are girls expected to dress in minimal clothing, wear makeup, uncomfortable shoes, etc. while guys can dress conservatively? Clearly, stereotypical gender roles were at play here – a girl must act as a girl and a guy must act as a guy. Who defined that?
It left me with more questions than answers. What was so cool about this? Is it necessary to stoop so low to get sex? Does makeup really make you look pretty? Do you feel like a “guy” if you are leading a drunk girl to you car? But in a society that labels a girl a “slut” and a guy a “champ”, such things are inevitable, isn’t it? Sad.
Just before we left the scene, we saw a girl in a terrible state. She was barely able to walk in her point heel shoes and I bet she was cold too. She had a cellphone in her hand and was screaming “mom! mom!” while desperately holding on to something so she wouldn’t fall. We were about to help when someone came running to her.
Thankfully only a small portion of the population is involved in this gender-stereotyped nightclub culture. All this made me realise how immature and un-sustainable this “rite of passage” to adulthood was. Or maybe I am just getting old and I see reality differently.
Notes:
1. Gudhi Padwa marks the beginning of the Hindu lunisolar calendar, i.e. a new year’s day.
2. Gajar halva is my favorite carrot pudding that my mother often makes.
- – -
I was happy that morning because it was Gudhi-Padwa. I knew mother would make gajar-halva; I’d seen her buy carrots yesterday. It was my favorite dessert and I was really looking forward to it.
Unfortunately, mother fell ill that day.
“I’ll cook it tomorrow my dear!” she said, seeing me upset.
“NO!!! But it’s a holiday!! Why did you have to get sick today?” I pouted and yelled. How could she do this to me?
A realization stuck me few hours later. My stomach churned and I felt awful for being so inconsiderate. I hadn’t even asked mother how she was doing! I was being totally selfish…me!me!me!
Then it came to me – I should cook gajar-halva for her!
Here’s how to cook when you are clueless: I picked up a carrot and, with great difficulty, managed to accumulate a few spoonfuls of shredded carrot in a cup. Now I just needed milk to make it perfect! I poured some milk and mixed it with the carrot. But it looked terrible… nothing like the gajar-halva that mom makes! I panicked, and in the process knocked over the milk pitcher. It fell on the floor making the loudest noise ever.
Mother came to the kitchen to check. She saw me there standing in a pool of milk with carrot shreds everywhere and a cup in my hand…
Well, the rest of the story is not as interesting. But my mother says that it was among the best Gudhi Padwas she’s ever had!
This post has been entered into the Grantourismo HomeAway Holiday-Rentals travel blogging competition
Four years in Canada
Last week was my 4th anniversary of moving to Canada. Coincidentally, the other day, my blog along with 3 other blogs was featured on a website under the the post Canada has a future. In that post, the writer used the cases of the four of us to demonstrate how recent immigrants to Canada had not only succeeded, but also contributed to the enrichment of the Canadian society. This made me reflect upon my story.
In the conventional sense, perhaps I can be considered successful. In the past 4 years, I’ve finished an expensive masters degree, paid off my loans, found a partner, landed a job that I like and pretty soon I’ll be buying a house – looks glorious. That said, these four years have been far from perfect. I was stuck in a degree I didn’t fully like but finished only because it offered value for money. At one point, I was jobless, broke and had to resort to doing certain ‘jobs’ that I know my mother would disapprove. There were other events that I don’t want to write about here. Yet, I consider myself lucky when I hear horror stories of other immigrants – struggling with finances, facing language and race barriers, unable to adjust to the extreme weather, scared by the unfamiliarity, etc.
But forget about the material things like possessions and bank balance – these things come and go. If success is measured by inter-personal factors such as love, relationships, friendships, or societal factors such as respect, inclusiveness, equality, etc., then I do think I’m successful. And this success is attributed not to me, but more to Canada and Canadians.
There are lot of things that I still need to do and accept before calling myself a Canadian. While I consider myself sufficiently integrated in Toronto, the word ‘home’ still reminds me of India. I think that’s inevitable – afterall I’ve spent the first 25 wonderful and formative years of my life in Mumbai, India. I often wonder how I would have turned up if I had moved to Delhi, Moscow, Hong Kong, Berlin or somewhere random instead of Toronto. Would I feel at home? Probably not. Would I be able to live there. Certainly yes. I think I will be able to live happily in any society that is open to a certain degree. Living, afterall, is such a transitional thing. Aren’t all humans immigrants of some kind? It was only in the last few centuries that the concept of nation-state and boundaries was strictly defined. Prior to that, people moved. My ancestors probably came to India from Asia minor, humanity probably originated in Africa, I moved to Canada, its all random.
Four years back I made a decision before fully appreciating the consequences of it. But once I immigrated, there was no going back and I am very glad I went forward with it. I’m quite certain that it won’t be very long before I refer to Canada as “home.”
To put this in a cheesy way: Four years ago, I came to this country with only two suitcases of stuff and eyes full of dreams. Today, I have a home full of stuff and hundreds of dreams that have come true. Thank you Canada.
Priyank
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