This has been a really hectic week, work and personal-life wise. We had friends visiting from California for the long Memorial-Day weekend, a cousin and his daughter visit to enroll her in Columbia for the summer (she’s going to stay with us) and a lot of other social engagements. We’re still recovering from all this.
PS116 Variety Show Rehearsal
A few weeks ago, the mother of a young Chinese-American girl who catches the bus to PS 116 with Dhruv told us about an upcoming variety program at their school. Any student could sign up and perform a small act of two minutes or less. Since Dhruv was preparing for Michael's concert anyway, we decided to enroll him in this variety program too. Rehearsals were scheduled for Tuesday evening, and Dhruv and I walked over to the school at around 5:30 in the evening. We climbed up the stairs to the top floor, to find the hall full of young children and their parents. We put our names down in the sign-in sheet and waited our turn. We were number 21.
After about half an hour of waiting, it was Dhruv’s turn. We entered the music room (which had a piano) where one of the parents and her two daughters (who seemed to be in middle school) cheerfully welcomed Dhruv in. They asked him what he was going to be playing ("Ode To Joy" and "Surprise Symphony") and then he proceeded to play -- with just one small mistake. Since we had timed it at home earlier, it came to exactly two minutes, and they were delighted. Sandhya and I were quite proud that Dhruv confidently stepped up to the piano and played quite well. The actual concert is on June 3, and we have a few weeks to brush up his applying before that.
Dinner at the Narains
The rounds of farewell parties for Sonia and JV have begun. That same evening, we were invited to dinner at the Narains', in Building 10. They'd also invited another common friend of theirs, who used to be with the Indian Foreign Service (the elite diplomatic corps of India) and is now with the UN. Interestingly, his father had also been in the Air Force, many years ago. We were an interesting group -- almost all of us (Sandhya may have been the only exception) were children of senior Government / Armed Forces officers and we therefore had several shared experiences from our time in Delhi, when our parents served.
It has been a long time since I was last in such company, and it has been an interesting re-introduction to that world for me. In the Silicon Valley, one was quite far removed from this sort of thing. On the other hand, in New York, because of the proximity of the UN and because of the circles in which we have been making friends (a lot of those friends were through Sonia and JV) I'm finding lots of common connections that go back to Delhi University, shared service in government, etc. At one level, one could probably call this circle the 'ruling elite' of India with the special exception that almost everybody is in their position because of merit and not because of any special favor that they enjoyed because of where their parents were.
I can see all of these folks growing up in circumstances that were similar to the one in which I grew up -- solid middle-class values, a government income that wasn't a great by any standards but was adequate if you had modest means, the perks that come with government jobs and made it up for the meager salary, but most importantly -- a work ethic that placed a high premium on integrity, hard work, merit and advancement through one's own energy and achievement.
Returning to Ground Zero
On Wednesday afternoon, I had a meeting in the World Financial Center (which is right next to Ground Zero). The last time I was there for a meeting, was four days before 9/11. I had a meeting in the World Trade Center, at 8:45 am on a Friday (9/8). 9/11 was the next Tuesday. I still have the ID card that they prepared for me when I passed through security -- the World Trade Center was the only place that gave you a laminated photo ID card when you came in as a visitor. Going back was quite an emotional moment for me and so many years later it is still difficult to imagine the magnitude of the disaster that took place on that day.
Dinner in Midtown
Srini Vijayaraghavan was in town on Wednesday, and we had agreed to meet for dinner in the evening. Sandhya picked “Marakkesh”, a Moroccan restaurant on 53rd Street. The place was a bit difficult to find (it’s below street level) but we were welcomed by a sweet little lady into a really warm, family-run restaurant. We were served by a tall, slim bearded Muslim man in traditional garb. We studied the menu, and proceeded order appetizers and some Falafel sandwiches for Dhruv (he’s come to love them). Srini arrived, and we studied the menu again. The one thing that struck us was the absence of anything stronger than Moroccan tea.
I finally mustered the courage to ask our waiter: “You don’t serve alcohol, do you?”
He had a look of terror on his face and he visibly shrank before he replied: “Oh no!”
“Ok, thanks.”
Since we were meeting after a while, we decided that this wouldn’t do, and so we finished our appetizers (which were excellent, by the way), and then headed back to street level to find someplace else. We ended up at Mint, an Indian restaurant a few streets down.
Guests arrive
My cousin Murali and his daughter Jahnavi arrived on Wednesday night – she’s going to be staying with us for the summer, and taking classes at Columbia. Her selection of classes is really interesting – Film Appreciation, New York Architectural History and Drawing; she is also thinking of one that involves taking care of wild animals, with hands-on work at Bronx Zoo. Certainly nothing like the extra classes on Number Theory I took with my Uncle during my summer holidays.
On Thursday morning, Smitha, Poulo and their kids arrived from the Bay Area. Smitha and Sandhya went to college together, and they were among our closest friends in the Bay Area. We therefore had a house full of 6 adults and 3 children heading into the long weekend. Fortunately they all knew each other and were terribly understanding and low-maintenance, so it all went off without a hitch.
An active weekend
We had earlier made reservations for Phantom of the Opera, and so Sandhya, Smitha, Poulo and I headed out on Thursday evening, leaving the kids with Murali and Jahnavi. The show was really nice –typically Broadway, with a excellent production values and a talented cast. We did compare it to Lion King, and frankly it fell a bit short.
After the show, we caught a train down to Union square where we had some really nice Asian Fusion food at Republic. We then caught a bus over to Schillers, where we gorged ourselves on Stick Toffee Pudding and Key Lime Pie. The Lichee Martinis were great too. I have heard of New Yorkers going all over town for the perfect pie or drink -- we're becoming like that!!
They spent Friday and Saturday on a hop-on-hop-off bus tour of New York. On Saturday morning we joined them at the Museum of Natural History and then spent the rest of the morning with the kids in Central Park, while they did the uptown circuit and visited the Met. We had packed burgers, which we ate in the park, and then walked to the play area. We had hoped to catch an African-Drum concert, like in the movie “The Visitors”, but it turned out they actually play elsewhere. The kids had a blast all the same.
That evening, we had ordered food in from a broad selection of places – Kathi Rolls from Roomali for Murali, Indian Chinese from Chinese Mirch and Thai from Jaiya Thai. We had planned to take a couple of bottles of wine down to the Plaza, but the weather didn’t cooperate. Hopefully sometime soon – the setting is just excellent and we can’t wait.
On Sunday morning, we took the #6 train down to City Hall to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. It had been projected to be cloudy, which would have been perfect, but the sun came out and it actually was quite warm. The walk itself wasn’t that tiring, and the kids did pretty well walking the mile or so across.
We got across and on the other side headed straight for the famous Grimaldi’s Pizza, and found a line of around 40 people waiting outside. Sandhya and Smitha joined the line, while Poulo and I took the kids down to the Empire-Fulton Ferry State Park by the water. I did the math – if they even took 2 minutes to serve each customer, it would take 1.5 hours before we got our Pizza. I didn’t think any Pizza was worth waiting that long. Thankfully, Sandhya found out that she could call the place, order the Pizzas, and pick them up 20-25 minutes later – which was a great relief. The Pizza was deliciously tasty and after polishing it off, we walked over to the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory nearby for a wonderful Ice Cream Sundae.
Terra Blues
On Sunday evening, we had made reservations at Buddha Bar for 10:30 pm. We decided to go to our usual Bleecker / MacDougal area at around 8 pm, so that we could hang out there for a while before going to Buddha Bar. We started at Mamoon’s, and then headed over to Terra Blues. A wan youth greeted us on the Sidewalk. He didn’t realize that we were headed there anyway, so offered to let us listen for a few minutes to decide whether we wanted to come in. At first there was a solo act, which was to be followed by a Band at 10:30 (by which time we figured we would’ve left). The solo artist was a Junior Mack, a well-built African-American musician in his fifties, with his guitar. He had an excellent voice, but more importantly, a really cheerful manner, so Poulo and I decided it was worth it. There was only a $5 cover anyway. The others came in, and we got a table close to the stage.
As we settled in and ordered our drinks, we began to realize that Junior Mack was really good. His rich voice, cheerful manner, and easy style were infectious. As 10 pm approached, nobody was in a mood to leave – so Sandhya called Buddha Bar and moved our reservation by half an hour. Junior Mack wrapped up around then, and was selling CDs of his music – I couldn’t resist, and was rewarded with an autographed copy as a result.
The Band set up, tuned their instruments and began playing – Junior Mack came back on the Lead Guitar, and there was a drummer, cellist and keyboardist. By 10:30 they had played a couple of numbers, and we were just enthralled. Sandhya called to move our reservation to 11:30. Even my cousin Murali, who’s much older and quite an Indian Classical music fan was thoroughly enjoying himself. The Terra Blues experience was turning out better than anything we had done thus far in New York – Café Wha? Backfences, Zinc Bar included. At 11:00 pm we couldn’t deny the reality any longer – there was no way we could leave Terra Blues for Buddha Bar. I drew a finger across my neck to signal Sandhya that we were staying.
We finally left there a little past midnight, after having thoroughly enjoyed every minute at Terra Blues. The next morning, Junior Mack’s CD was promptly blasting out of our stereo, and we were really happy that we hadn’t left to go to Buddha Bar.
Back to Central Park Zoo
Poulo and I took the kids to Central Park Zoo on Monday morning, while the girls went shopping to Macy’s and Soho. They were feeding the Penguins as we arrived, which was an amazing experience, but the Polar Bears (there were two this time) didn’t give us the pleasure of watching them swim. We later caught the Seal feeding two, making it a twofer. We had lunch at Pongal on the way back.
Party Hopping to Buddha Bar
Another of Sonia’s friends had invited us to a farewell dinner on Monday evening, and we went – this one was in the Upper East Side. Their flat was wonderfully decorated with some really nice 19th Century Indian art. The crowd was very interesting too – and I was pleasantly surprised to meet the son of one of my father’s colleagues there – an IFS officer at the Indian Mission to the UN. I also met our hostess’ niece, who is a student at Hindu College, my alma mater. The Hindu-St. Stephen’s rivalry is still alive – in response to my question “So how’s the college these days?” she started with “It’s gotten much better than St. Stephens”!
We left a bit early to meet Poulo, Smitha, Murali and Jahnavi at Buddha Bar (we were all determined to make use of every available evening!) The place was a bit difficult to find, because it doesn’t advertise itself as Buddha Bar (something to do with the loss of their franchise license, apparently). It was huge – I mean really big – and rather empty for a Monday evening, although it was a holiday. In fact, it seemed like it was Gangbanger night – we saw at least three couples where the guy looked like a Drug lord, and the woman looked like his Moll – maybe I’ve been watching too much of The Wire on Netflix that I’m imagining Drug Lords where they may not exist.
Poulo and Smitha had a really full visit – they saw all the sights New York has to offer, including the night-life, and their kids had a good time too. The house is so quite now it’s almost depressing. We have guests scheduled to visit starting the first week of June, so it’s not going to stay like that for long!
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Bleecker Night-Out
The high point of this week was Saturday night. Sandhya’s nieces, Smitu and Nitu, were in town with their husbands, and we left four kids with a babysitter and spent a lovely evening in the Bleecker Street area. But more about that later.
Dinner at Jaiya Thai
On Monday evening, Priya and Praful insisted on taking us out to dinner, and after walking a few blocks into town, we huddled and picked Jaiya Thai for dinner. The wonderful thing about living so close to so many options is that you’re never more than 4-5 blocks from really good eating places.
Dinner was excellent – keeping Jaiya high on our list of places that we wouldn’t mind going to again. The cocktails we had were also really good. On the way back, we stopped at a Baskin Robbins for ice-cream, and then walked home.
On our way to Jaiya, I had earlier noticed some rather shady-looking characters on the sidewalk around 26th and 2nd Avenue. The building there is being renovated, and the scaffolding makes for a rather dark sidewalk; ideal conditions for anti-social behavior. I have been reading Jane Jacob’s excellent book “The Death and Life of Great American Cities”. While it was written in the early 60s and highly influential in urban planning circles, its analysis of what makes for a safe and vibrant neighborhood is fascinating. While we were crossing this area on our way back, we saw two police cars suddenly pull up, their lights flashing, and few police officers jumped out and rounded up the people who were hanging out there. It was a bit like a scene out of “Cops” where the Cops were shouting at the people to sit down and put their hands behind their backs, while they were questioned. Scary, at one level, but reassuring at another, that someone was doing something to keep the area safe.
Returning the iPod
I have earlier written about the iPod I found on the sidewalk. I was on my way to lunch with an old childhood friend at Thalia’s – a restaurant just outside Times Square (50th and 8th Avenue). The place is supposed to get really crowded on Wednesdays because of the Matinee, so we got there early. I had the “special” – a Mushroom Ravioli, which is one of the best I’ve had in a long time.
On Friday afternoon, Craig Saltzman’s son stopped by to pick up his iPod. He asked me again whether he could give me something. I waved my hand dismissively “Don’t give it another thought. Do a good turn to somebody” I replied.
I really wonder how they’ll describe this incident to their friends. “Dumb Indian guy who actually returned it, and then didn’t take anything”? Or would it be “This is a better world than we thought it was”? I wonder. I hope it’s the latter.
School birthday and play-date
During the week, Dhruv was invited to a birthday party by one of his classmates, and Sandhya took him there. She met the parents of some of his classmates there, and fixed up a play-date for Dhruv later in the week. Since he goes by school bus, we don’t get much of an opportunity to meet with, and get to know, the other parents. We didn’t realize the diversity of ethnic backgrounds in our area. Perhaps due to the presence of the UN, there are people from all over in his class – it’s a little “UN” itself. There’s a Serbian kid, one from Kosovo, a Macedonian, Belgian, a couple of Russian / Ukrainians – the list goes on. The kids he plays with in the plaza are equally diverse – one of his good friends is Iranian, and another has a Sicilian Dad and a Ukrainian mom.
Dim Sum and Backfences on Saturday Night
Sandhya’s “nieces”, Smitu and Nitu, their husbands and kids, came in on Saturday afternoon. They’re slightly younger than us, but we get along well, and I thoroughly enjoy their company. One of them is moving to Singapore this summer, and we wanted them to visit before they left the country.
We took the kids down the play area downstairs, where we encountered an interesting couple – the gentleman is of Indian origin, an Assamese IFS officer who left the IFS to marry his Czech fiancé. He used to work for the UN, and is now retired. Waterside is full of UN or ex-UN folks, making it a fun place to stay.
After leaving four kids, ranging from 14 months to almost 6 (Dhruv) with the baby sitter, we headed out that night. We caught an M15 down to Chinatown, where we went to Dim Sum Go Go, a place that initially looks a bit out of place, with its contemporary look and name. We had been told that they had a good vegetarian selection, and we were not disappointed. We almost did a “one of everything, please!” order, and enjoyed what we got so much that we did a repeat of everything. Despite being quite inept at using Chopsticks, the Dim Sum was manageable enough that we didn’t need forks and spoons.
After dinner, we decided to walk the 1.3 miles or so to Backfences Bar, a place strongly recommended by Sonia and JV, in the Bleecker / MacDougall area. We arrived there 20-odd minutes later, and entered to find the place pretty crowded. We put our names down for a table, and sidled up to the bar, where the barman told us there was a one-drink minimum. We proceeded to order, and enjoyed some excellent music that was really “our generation” – CSNY, CCR, Dylan, Simon & Garfunkel, etc…
We were surprised to find we were the only ‘people of color’ in the entire place. It was exclusively full of White folk, generally in their mid-thirties. A couple of college kids lowered the average age, and they had their eyes trained on a large bevy of single women seated at one of the tables.
A little while later we got our table, right next to band. Rishi was so close to the drummer that he could’ve knocked the drum over if he hadn’t kept his elbows in. A waitress came over. “What are you drinking?” We had brought our drinks over from where we were standing, so we told he we were good for now. “I’m sorry, but there’s a two-drink minimum at the table.” She said. “We’ve already had two drinks each,” I replied. “The drinks at the bar don’t count. You have to order two drinks each here.” Between the six of us, that would’ve meant 12 drinks. There was no way we were going to be able to do that. “Thank you very much, but I don’t think we can do that,” I said, rising. We went back to where we were standing, finished our drinks, and then decided to head out.
We headed over to Mamoon’s Falafel, which was crowded as usual. We stood outside and shared four piping hot Falafel Sandwiches. Everyone wanted hot sauce, despite my warning that Mamoon’s hot sauce was really hot, and they really struggled after that. Rishi wanted a kathi roll, so he headed there to order, and we followed. An Anda-Aloo or Paneer roll later, we were suitably fortified to go someplace else.
Unfortunately, as we emerged, it began raining. After some deliberation, we realized that Backfences was probably the best place to hang out, and so we headed back there. We had been ‘stamped’, so we could enter again without paying the cover.
When we got back to Backfences, there was barely standing room. My wet jacket made people move out a bit and make way. The band had changed, but the ambience we enjoyed so much the first time had not. Smitu got Rishi to go and request the band to play Neil Diamond’s ‘Sweet Caroline’ and their version of it was a huge hit with the crowd.
At around a quarter to one, we decided it was time to head home, and went out, into pouring rain. After unsuccessfully trying several cabs, we finally walked a couple of blocks and got one – Rishi and the three girls went off and Ganesh and I tried for around 20 minutes before an India limo driver took pity on us and gave us a ride back.
Despite the unreasonable rules around drink minimums, Backfences was a great experience. Excellent music, reasonable prices, a good crowd – what more could one ask for? We chatted about how there weren’t any places quite like this in India – and I wonder why. I’m sure there is adequate demand for something like this, and enough bands wanting a paying gig. I really wonder why.
Waterside Brunch
A new café opened recently in the Plaza downstairs, and we decided to go there for brunch. Despite a slightly overcast day, it wasn’t too cold, and we enjoyed sitting outside in the Plaza and eating our breakfast. Smitu and Nitu left around Noon, and Dhruv and I went swimming thereafter.
Waterside is really growing on us – and the things we like – the pool + health club downstairs, almost-private Plaza by the river, the diversity of the neighborhood – are going to be difficult to find anywhere else. I keep getting asked the “so you’re going back after a year?” question and find it more difficult to answer with every passing week.
Dinner at Jaiya Thai
On Monday evening, Priya and Praful insisted on taking us out to dinner, and after walking a few blocks into town, we huddled and picked Jaiya Thai for dinner. The wonderful thing about living so close to so many options is that you’re never more than 4-5 blocks from really good eating places.
Dinner was excellent – keeping Jaiya high on our list of places that we wouldn’t mind going to again. The cocktails we had were also really good. On the way back, we stopped at a Baskin Robbins for ice-cream, and then walked home.
On our way to Jaiya, I had earlier noticed some rather shady-looking characters on the sidewalk around 26th and 2nd Avenue. The building there is being renovated, and the scaffolding makes for a rather dark sidewalk; ideal conditions for anti-social behavior. I have been reading Jane Jacob’s excellent book “The Death and Life of Great American Cities”. While it was written in the early 60s and highly influential in urban planning circles, its analysis of what makes for a safe and vibrant neighborhood is fascinating. While we were crossing this area on our way back, we saw two police cars suddenly pull up, their lights flashing, and few police officers jumped out and rounded up the people who were hanging out there. It was a bit like a scene out of “Cops” where the Cops were shouting at the people to sit down and put their hands behind their backs, while they were questioned. Scary, at one level, but reassuring at another, that someone was doing something to keep the area safe.
Returning the iPod
I have earlier written about the iPod I found on the sidewalk. I was on my way to lunch with an old childhood friend at Thalia’s – a restaurant just outside Times Square (50th and 8th Avenue). The place is supposed to get really crowded on Wednesdays because of the Matinee, so we got there early. I had the “special” – a Mushroom Ravioli, which is one of the best I’ve had in a long time.
On Friday afternoon, Craig Saltzman’s son stopped by to pick up his iPod. He asked me again whether he could give me something. I waved my hand dismissively “Don’t give it another thought. Do a good turn to somebody” I replied.
I really wonder how they’ll describe this incident to their friends. “Dumb Indian guy who actually returned it, and then didn’t take anything”? Or would it be “This is a better world than we thought it was”? I wonder. I hope it’s the latter.
School birthday and play-date
During the week, Dhruv was invited to a birthday party by one of his classmates, and Sandhya took him there. She met the parents of some of his classmates there, and fixed up a play-date for Dhruv later in the week. Since he goes by school bus, we don’t get much of an opportunity to meet with, and get to know, the other parents. We didn’t realize the diversity of ethnic backgrounds in our area. Perhaps due to the presence of the UN, there are people from all over in his class – it’s a little “UN” itself. There’s a Serbian kid, one from Kosovo, a Macedonian, Belgian, a couple of Russian / Ukrainians – the list goes on. The kids he plays with in the plaza are equally diverse – one of his good friends is Iranian, and another has a Sicilian Dad and a Ukrainian mom.
Dim Sum and Backfences on Saturday Night
Sandhya’s “nieces”, Smitu and Nitu, their husbands and kids, came in on Saturday afternoon. They’re slightly younger than us, but we get along well, and I thoroughly enjoy their company. One of them is moving to Singapore this summer, and we wanted them to visit before they left the country.
We took the kids down the play area downstairs, where we encountered an interesting couple – the gentleman is of Indian origin, an Assamese IFS officer who left the IFS to marry his Czech fiancé. He used to work for the UN, and is now retired. Waterside is full of UN or ex-UN folks, making it a fun place to stay.
After leaving four kids, ranging from 14 months to almost 6 (Dhruv) with the baby sitter, we headed out that night. We caught an M15 down to Chinatown, where we went to Dim Sum Go Go, a place that initially looks a bit out of place, with its contemporary look and name. We had been told that they had a good vegetarian selection, and we were not disappointed. We almost did a “one of everything, please!” order, and enjoyed what we got so much that we did a repeat of everything. Despite being quite inept at using Chopsticks, the Dim Sum was manageable enough that we didn’t need forks and spoons.
After dinner, we decided to walk the 1.3 miles or so to Backfences Bar, a place strongly recommended by Sonia and JV, in the Bleecker / MacDougall area. We arrived there 20-odd minutes later, and entered to find the place pretty crowded. We put our names down for a table, and sidled up to the bar, where the barman told us there was a one-drink minimum. We proceeded to order, and enjoyed some excellent music that was really “our generation” – CSNY, CCR, Dylan, Simon & Garfunkel, etc…
We were surprised to find we were the only ‘people of color’ in the entire place. It was exclusively full of White folk, generally in their mid-thirties. A couple of college kids lowered the average age, and they had their eyes trained on a large bevy of single women seated at one of the tables.
A little while later we got our table, right next to band. Rishi was so close to the drummer that he could’ve knocked the drum over if he hadn’t kept his elbows in. A waitress came over. “What are you drinking?” We had brought our drinks over from where we were standing, so we told he we were good for now. “I’m sorry, but there’s a two-drink minimum at the table.” She said. “We’ve already had two drinks each,” I replied. “The drinks at the bar don’t count. You have to order two drinks each here.” Between the six of us, that would’ve meant 12 drinks. There was no way we were going to be able to do that. “Thank you very much, but I don’t think we can do that,” I said, rising. We went back to where we were standing, finished our drinks, and then decided to head out.
We headed over to Mamoon’s Falafel, which was crowded as usual. We stood outside and shared four piping hot Falafel Sandwiches. Everyone wanted hot sauce, despite my warning that Mamoon’s hot sauce was really hot, and they really struggled after that. Rishi wanted a kathi roll, so he headed there to order, and we followed. An Anda-Aloo or Paneer roll later, we were suitably fortified to go someplace else.
Unfortunately, as we emerged, it began raining. After some deliberation, we realized that Backfences was probably the best place to hang out, and so we headed back there. We had been ‘stamped’, so we could enter again without paying the cover.
When we got back to Backfences, there was barely standing room. My wet jacket made people move out a bit and make way. The band had changed, but the ambience we enjoyed so much the first time had not. Smitu got Rishi to go and request the band to play Neil Diamond’s ‘Sweet Caroline’ and their version of it was a huge hit with the crowd.
At around a quarter to one, we decided it was time to head home, and went out, into pouring rain. After unsuccessfully trying several cabs, we finally walked a couple of blocks and got one – Rishi and the three girls went off and Ganesh and I tried for around 20 minutes before an India limo driver took pity on us and gave us a ride back.
Despite the unreasonable rules around drink minimums, Backfences was a great experience. Excellent music, reasonable prices, a good crowd – what more could one ask for? We chatted about how there weren’t any places quite like this in India – and I wonder why. I’m sure there is adequate demand for something like this, and enough bands wanting a paying gig. I really wonder why.
Waterside Brunch
A new café opened recently in the Plaza downstairs, and we decided to go there for brunch. Despite a slightly overcast day, it wasn’t too cold, and we enjoyed sitting outside in the Plaza and eating our breakfast. Smitu and Nitu left around Noon, and Dhruv and I went swimming thereafter.
Waterside is really growing on us – and the things we like – the pool + health club downstairs, almost-private Plaza by the river, the diversity of the neighborhood – are going to be difficult to find anywhere else. I keep getting asked the “so you’re going back after a year?” question and find it more difficult to answer with every passing week.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Sidewalk excitement
Breakfast at the Warwick
On Wednesday, I had a breakfast meeting with a prospective client at the Warwick Hotel in Midtown. The Warwick has a nice old-fashioned Bistro just off the lobby, and we met there. When the waitress came to take our order, he asked me to go first, and I made the mistake of accepting – and remembering what my mother told me (“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!”), I proceeded to order a single-egg omelet with veggies and toast. The client, who was quite a big shot in his business, proceeded to ask for “a muffin” and got two tiny ‘mini-muffins’ since the Bistro was out of regular muffins. So to my utter embarrassment, he picked at two tiny muffins on his plate while I tried my level best to eat as much of my omelet as I could. Lesson learned! I guess American habits are more European than British (who have hearty breakfasts) and we Indians are like the latter.
Finding stuff on the sidewalk
On Wednesday afternoon, I was returning from a business meeting and had just crossed Broadway/Sixth Avenue to catch the M16 back to Waterside. As I crossed an entrance to the subway station, a couple of young girls (they appeared to be tourists) crossed me, headed for the subway. One of them had her wallet out and must have been taking out her MetroCard. While she was doing so, a few $20 bills inadvertently fell out of her wallet and onto the sidewalk. She walked on oblivious, and I and a couple of passersby hailed her. She and her friend stopped and turned, and we pointed to the dollar bills on the sidewalk. As she realized what had happened, and began walking towards the bills, a short oriental-looking older lady jumped on the dollar bills, picked them up, and claimed that they were hers. Thankfully, all of us bystanders told her in no uncertain terms that the dollar bills were the girl's and she then handed them over with a look of great sadness on her face. Having lived in a more sheltered, suburban environment the blatant way in which, in open view, she claimed the dollar bills to be hers left me really surprised.
I guess Wednesday is my day for finding things on the sidewalk -- I was traveling on the M16 yesterday, going to lunch with an old friend, and we had stopped at the Third Avenue bus stop. Someone got off the bus, and from where I was sitting -- near the rear exit -- I saw a small iPod Nano lying on the sidewalk. The door had closed by then, but since the bus hadn't begun moving, on an impulse, I jumped up and tried to open the door. But the light had already gone out, and the door would not open. I would have given up at that point, but someone saw me struggle with the door and shouted out to the driver "backdoor, please!" The driver opened the back door; I jumped out, picked up the Nano, and ran to the front of the bus to re-board. The driver looked at me puzzled: "didn't you just get off the back door?" "Yes," I replied, "I found this lying on the sidewalk and jumped out to pick it up." He just shook his head.
Later that evening, when I got home, I posted an ad on craigslist announcing that I had found a two GB black iPod Nano in the Murray Hill area. Since I had received no response by the evening, I plugged it into Sandhya's MacBook to see if there was any information about the owner. As soon as I plugged it in, it said: "Craig Saltzman's iPod." I immediately Googled ‘Craig Saltzman’ and several matching results came up. There was a doctor in Boston, someone in Chicago, and a real estate agent with a 516 telephone number. I looked up 516, and found that it was the area code of Nassau County, the county just East of Queens in Long Island. The photograph of the real estate agent showed him to be a middle-aged / older man, and the music on the iPod seemed to be of someone of my age -- it had Pink Floyd, The Doors, etc. I decided to call the number, and left a voicemail.
About half an hour later, we got a call back -- it turned out that it was in fact the right Craig Saltzman, that it was his son’s iPod, and that he had lost it earlier in the day. I heard a female voice in the background ask him "ask him how he found our number." I am sure my ability to find them so quickly must have freaked them out. When I told him that as soon as I plug the iPod into a computer, it said that it was "Craig Saltzman's iPod" and that I then Googled him, he relaxed. The lady, his wife, then came on the phone to thank me. "Tell us how we can meet you and pick it up, and pay you for your trouble" she said. I guess she was pleasantly surprised when I told her that no payment was necessary, that I was happy to be able to help. I took his e-mail address, and e-mailed him our address and asked him to come by and pick it up whenever he liked.
Bingo night
Wednesday night was bingo night in Dhruv's school, and so we decided to go for a while. Dhruv was not terribly keen but we decided to force him to go anyway. He had never played bingo before, and I was surprised to see his competitive juices flowing as he understood what the game was all about.
After playing a few rounds, we walked Patsy's Pizzeria, at the intersection of Third Avenue and 34th St., where we had a nice dinner of some lightly seasoned thin crust pizza. We're really getting spoilt with the high quality, thin crust pizzas which you get here in New York -- a little cheesy or perhaps than what you get in Italy, but pretty good all the same.
Saturday brunch
On Saturday, we headed down to the East Village for brunch with Sriram Padmanabhan, an old colleague from Infosys, and his family. We met at Angelica's Kitchen, a vegan restaurant that is at the intersection of second Avenue and 12th St. We took the M15 down Second Avenue, and were surprised to find the bus turn off at 14th St. Second Avenue was closed South of 14th St. because of a street fair. So we got off, and walked through the fair to the restaurant.
We have been to restaurants like Angelica's in the Bay Area (Gratitude Café, for example) and have always enjoyed the experience. Angelica's was no exception -- the menu was very interesting -- a mix of many different cuisines. I had a bowl of Southern Chilli, which was really nice. Sandhya had a burrito-like thing, and I helped her finish it.
After brunch, feeling quite healthy, we decided to go to Veniero’s for dessert. This cathedral to worshiping the desert gods is definitely for someone counting calories. I had a really wonderful cheesecake with fresh strawberry on top -- I've never been a big cheesecake fan, but I really enjoyed this one.
We walked back all the way from Veniero’s, enjoying a little stroll around the beautiful Gramercy Park, which is unfortunately a private park and only residents who live within a block of the park have access.
Classmate Gautam Gode was in town, visiting from India, and we had a little get-together of my business school classmates and their spouses. I hadn't seen Gode in almost 15 years and was pleasantly surprised to find that he had changed little.
To the Met with a purpose
I might have mentioned that Dhruv has been enrolled in afterschool art classes and spends an hour every Wednesday evening with an art teacher. She has been teaching them about the great artists, and having them actually paint in the style of these great artists. Thus far, he's studied Van Gogh, Monet, and Seurat.
We therefore decided that it was time for him to see the actual works of these masters. On Sunday morning, after breakfast, we climbed on the number six train with the specific objective of showing Dhruv the actual paintings of the artists that he had been studying.
I was pleasantly surprised to find that he quite enjoyed the visit -- he recognized some of Monet's paintings that the art teacher had showed them -- in particular, "Bridge Over a Pool Of Water Lilies". It was really sweet to watch him stand close to painting and look at the brushwork, and then walk backwards and look at the painting from afar. "But Appa," he would say "I can still see the dabs of paint!"
On Wednesday, I had a breakfast meeting with a prospective client at the Warwick Hotel in Midtown. The Warwick has a nice old-fashioned Bistro just off the lobby, and we met there. When the waitress came to take our order, he asked me to go first, and I made the mistake of accepting – and remembering what my mother told me (“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!”), I proceeded to order a single-egg omelet with veggies and toast. The client, who was quite a big shot in his business, proceeded to ask for “a muffin” and got two tiny ‘mini-muffins’ since the Bistro was out of regular muffins. So to my utter embarrassment, he picked at two tiny muffins on his plate while I tried my level best to eat as much of my omelet as I could. Lesson learned! I guess American habits are more European than British (who have hearty breakfasts) and we Indians are like the latter.
Finding stuff on the sidewalk
On Wednesday afternoon, I was returning from a business meeting and had just crossed Broadway/Sixth Avenue to catch the M16 back to Waterside. As I crossed an entrance to the subway station, a couple of young girls (they appeared to be tourists) crossed me, headed for the subway. One of them had her wallet out and must have been taking out her MetroCard. While she was doing so, a few $20 bills inadvertently fell out of her wallet and onto the sidewalk. She walked on oblivious, and I and a couple of passersby hailed her. She and her friend stopped and turned, and we pointed to the dollar bills on the sidewalk. As she realized what had happened, and began walking towards the bills, a short oriental-looking older lady jumped on the dollar bills, picked them up, and claimed that they were hers. Thankfully, all of us bystanders told her in no uncertain terms that the dollar bills were the girl's and she then handed them over with a look of great sadness on her face. Having lived in a more sheltered, suburban environment the blatant way in which, in open view, she claimed the dollar bills to be hers left me really surprised.
I guess Wednesday is my day for finding things on the sidewalk -- I was traveling on the M16 yesterday, going to lunch with an old friend, and we had stopped at the Third Avenue bus stop. Someone got off the bus, and from where I was sitting -- near the rear exit -- I saw a small iPod Nano lying on the sidewalk. The door had closed by then, but since the bus hadn't begun moving, on an impulse, I jumped up and tried to open the door. But the light had already gone out, and the door would not open. I would have given up at that point, but someone saw me struggle with the door and shouted out to the driver "backdoor, please!" The driver opened the back door; I jumped out, picked up the Nano, and ran to the front of the bus to re-board. The driver looked at me puzzled: "didn't you just get off the back door?" "Yes," I replied, "I found this lying on the sidewalk and jumped out to pick it up." He just shook his head.
Later that evening, when I got home, I posted an ad on craigslist announcing that I had found a two GB black iPod Nano in the Murray Hill area. Since I had received no response by the evening, I plugged it into Sandhya's MacBook to see if there was any information about the owner. As soon as I plugged it in, it said: "Craig Saltzman's iPod." I immediately Googled ‘Craig Saltzman’ and several matching results came up. There was a doctor in Boston, someone in Chicago, and a real estate agent with a 516 telephone number. I looked up 516, and found that it was the area code of Nassau County, the county just East of Queens in Long Island. The photograph of the real estate agent showed him to be a middle-aged / older man, and the music on the iPod seemed to be of someone of my age -- it had Pink Floyd, The Doors, etc. I decided to call the number, and left a voicemail.
About half an hour later, we got a call back -- it turned out that it was in fact the right Craig Saltzman, that it was his son’s iPod, and that he had lost it earlier in the day. I heard a female voice in the background ask him "ask him how he found our number." I am sure my ability to find them so quickly must have freaked them out. When I told him that as soon as I plug the iPod into a computer, it said that it was "Craig Saltzman's iPod" and that I then Googled him, he relaxed. The lady, his wife, then came on the phone to thank me. "Tell us how we can meet you and pick it up, and pay you for your trouble" she said. I guess she was pleasantly surprised when I told her that no payment was necessary, that I was happy to be able to help. I took his e-mail address, and e-mailed him our address and asked him to come by and pick it up whenever he liked.
Bingo night
Wednesday night was bingo night in Dhruv's school, and so we decided to go for a while. Dhruv was not terribly keen but we decided to force him to go anyway. He had never played bingo before, and I was surprised to see his competitive juices flowing as he understood what the game was all about.
After playing a few rounds, we walked Patsy's Pizzeria, at the intersection of Third Avenue and 34th St., where we had a nice dinner of some lightly seasoned thin crust pizza. We're really getting spoilt with the high quality, thin crust pizzas which you get here in New York -- a little cheesy or perhaps than what you get in Italy, but pretty good all the same.
Saturday brunch
On Saturday, we headed down to the East Village for brunch with Sriram Padmanabhan, an old colleague from Infosys, and his family. We met at Angelica's Kitchen, a vegan restaurant that is at the intersection of second Avenue and 12th St. We took the M15 down Second Avenue, and were surprised to find the bus turn off at 14th St. Second Avenue was closed South of 14th St. because of a street fair. So we got off, and walked through the fair to the restaurant.
We have been to restaurants like Angelica's in the Bay Area (Gratitude Café, for example) and have always enjoyed the experience. Angelica's was no exception -- the menu was very interesting -- a mix of many different cuisines. I had a bowl of Southern Chilli, which was really nice. Sandhya had a burrito-like thing, and I helped her finish it.
After brunch, feeling quite healthy, we decided to go to Veniero’s for dessert. This cathedral to worshiping the desert gods is definitely for someone counting calories. I had a really wonderful cheesecake with fresh strawberry on top -- I've never been a big cheesecake fan, but I really enjoyed this one.
We walked back all the way from Veniero’s, enjoying a little stroll around the beautiful Gramercy Park, which is unfortunately a private park and only residents who live within a block of the park have access.
Classmate Gautam Gode was in town, visiting from India, and we had a little get-together of my business school classmates and their spouses. I hadn't seen Gode in almost 15 years and was pleasantly surprised to find that he had changed little.
To the Met with a purpose
I might have mentioned that Dhruv has been enrolled in afterschool art classes and spends an hour every Wednesday evening with an art teacher. She has been teaching them about the great artists, and having them actually paint in the style of these great artists. Thus far, he's studied Van Gogh, Monet, and Seurat.
We therefore decided that it was time for him to see the actual works of these masters. On Sunday morning, after breakfast, we climbed on the number six train with the specific objective of showing Dhruv the actual paintings of the artists that he had been studying.
I was pleasantly surprised to find that he quite enjoyed the visit -- he recognized some of Monet's paintings that the art teacher had showed them -- in particular, "Bridge Over a Pool Of Water Lilies". It was really sweet to watch him stand close to painting and look at the brushwork, and then walk backwards and look at the painting from afar. "But Appa," he would say "I can still see the dabs of paint!"
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Manished out
Manish Subramanian, a classmate from B-school and a good friend, and his wife Aparna, were in town this week. Given what enthusiastic party animals they are, this turned out to be a really active weekend. But first things first – I forgot to write about a lovely evening in Little Italy, courtesy Sonia, last week. So here goes.
Lombardi’s Pizza
We had had Lombardi’s Pizza at Sonia’s place before, and enjoyed it every time. Perfect thin crusts, just a suggestion of cheese, and a little sprinkling of ingredients meant that these Pizzas were unlike your normal over-stuffed American Pizza, and much closer to the real Italian stuff we so enjoyed two summer ago. So when Sonia suggested driving down to the place itself and having the Pizza’s fresh, it didn’t take a lot of convincing. My cousin Murali was also visiting, and so we dragged him along too. He’s not a big Pizza fan, but I guess the poor man didn’t have a choice.
Murali and I got off with the kids while Sandhya and Sonia went off to find parking. The kids walked into this wonderful old-world Pizzeria and went straight to the bar. I was about to stop them when I noticed the bartender greet them quite cheerfully. Dhruv and Rishab climbed onto a bar stool and struck up a cheerful conversation with the man, who must’ve been in his early twenties. I was quite surprised by how confident Dhruv was – he’s normally quite shy in such situations.
Sonia and Sandhya joined us a few minutes later, and we took our places at a large round table. I then noticed a small plaque that informed visitors that Lombardi’s was the first place to be granted a license to make Pizzas in the US, over 100 years ago (1905, to be precise). Even if it wasn’t the first, that is an impressive record.
We ordered an assortment of Pizzas, some Bruschetta, and a salad. Some of us had wine, while Sandhya had Sangria. The Pizzas were everything that we expected and more – Lombardi’s is definitely a must-see for anyone in New York.
I felt like having some Tiramisu after dinner, but Sonia refused to let me. “Wait till you see the place I’m taking you,” she said, with more than a hint of the mysterious. Since her surprises have always been good, I didn’t protest.
We then walked around the corner to “Rice to Riches” a place that looks like a Chic Salon at first glance. Inside, it’s anything but. Claiming to be “off the eaten path”, it has nothing but Rice Pudding in different flavors, shapes and sizes. I thought that Sonia had finally made a bad pick. After all, Rice Pudding? Who would’ve thunk it? It turned out fantastic. Of course, given all the flavors it took us ages to choose, but when it finally came, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.
Off piano buying
Michael had been asking me to seriously consider investing in a piano (digital or otherwise) and since we recently got our tax refund, I decided to take the plunge. He said he’d come with me to help me pick one, and so on Friday afternoon, I met him at Sam Ash, a specialty store on 48th Street, just off 7th Avenue. Only New York seems to have stores like Sam Ash – one in each field. Like B&H is for Photography stuff, the place was just full of the most esoteric, yet high-end, equipment that you might want. They didn’t have the entry level model we were interested in, unfortunately, and we returned empty handed. I later took the chance of ordering it online without seeing, and it’s probably the first time I’ve ordered a 140 lb, $800 product without even so much as seeing it.
Friday / Saturday with Manish and Aparna
Manish and Aparna showed up at Sonia’s place on Friday, and she invited us home for dinner that evening. We had initially planned to go out after dinner, but ended up just sitting around chatting. Dhruv went to sleep in their place, and we left him there. He woke the next morning and happily played there for several hours before we went and got him back.
My allergies bothered me quite a bit that morning, and I just took it easy. JV wanted us to come over for an Omelet Brunch, but I just wasn’t up to it. We were going out for dinner and to a bar later in the evening, and I wanted to be fully rested.
At around 7:30 in the evening, we left Dhruv with a sitter at Sonia’s place, and the six of us went out. We parked at the intersection of 27th Street and 5th Avenue – we were going to ilili (http://www.ililinyc.com/) – a Mediterranean Fusion restaurant on 5th Avenue. As we left the car I noticed that we had parked opposite the “Museum of Sex”. The posters for the place were most interesting, and we should check it out sometime soon.
Ilili turned out to be quite an amazing place. We sat in the lounge, instead of the restaurant, and ordered several appetizers. The chef was quite amazing, and even a bowl of Brussels Sprouts turned out fantastic. The Baba Ghannouj, Falafel, Dolma and Warm Eggplant were excellent. The best part of the evening, food and drink wise, was the Martini I had – a “not so bloody martini” – it had a jalapeno that gave it a really fascinating spicy flavor that I haven’t had before. I say “food and drink wise” because the best part of the evening was definitely the crowd and the ambience. We had a couple of models behind us, for example, and almost everyone I saw was interesting. A memorable evening, no doubt.
We had made reservations at Zinc Bar for 10 pm, so we left at around 9:45, and got there a few minutes before the hour. Zinc Bar is a block away from Café Wha? but is far more understated on the outside. We paid our cover charge and entered to find the place largely empty. “Uh-oh!” we thought to ourselves – thinking we had made a mistake coming there – crowds = popularity = a guaranteed good time, in my lexicon. We decided to stay anyway, and took and nice curved couch in the middle, right in front of where the band would be.
“Is there a stand-up comic?” Aparna asked.
“Why?”
“If there is one, he’s definitely going to pick on us, if we sit here.”
I looked around, and remembered the evening at Café Wha? None of us wanted to be singled out for attention.
Manish went off -- to “try to figure out the place,” he said. He came back to reassure us that there was no stand-up comic and we sat back and waited for the band to get going.
I was really keen on going to the Zinc Bar on Friday, because some of New York’s best African bands play there on Fridays, and I’ve been tripping on African music of late. Saturdays is Brazilian Jazz, and the band turned out quite good. The Vocalist was so-so, but the keyboardist and drummer were good, but we were all riveted by the female bass-guitarist. A bit of a mix between Penelope Cruz and Salma Hayek, she had a lot of talent and ‘tude. The band played three 45-minute sets, and in the second set, they were joined by an excellent African-American trumpet player who took the whole evening to a whole new level.
While we were there, we were joined by a couple of Aparna’s cousins – a girl and her husband, and a single young man. Despite the fact that they didn’t know us, we got along surprisingly cordially, and thoroughly enjoyed the evening.
At around 11:30, we left Zinc Bar and decided we were hungry. Kathi Roll Company was just around the corner, and we made a beeline for the place, and joined the long line that was just out the door. A couple of Unda-Aloo rolls later, we headed back outside. Sandhya and Aparna decided they needed something sweet to eat, and went across the street to get some Crêpes. Aparna’s cousin and her husband had left by this time, and Manish, Aparna’s other cousin and I decided to step into Panchito’s Mexican bar and get a Tequila shot to keep us warm. We joined the ladies outside a few minutes later, and finished off some lovely Banana and Chocolate Crêpes standing on the street.
The general consensus after that was that we should go to Café Wha? and so that’s where we went. The place was winding down, and we paid a small amount to get in. The skeleton band that was left by that time was playing quite badly, and we staying for a while, and then left. We got home at around 3 AM, after a really wonderful evening – starting from ilili, through Zinc Bar, Kathi Rolls, Crêpes, and finally Café Wha?
Sunday with the Harlem Gospel Choir
On Sunday, we headed to Times Square for brunch with the Harlem Gospel Choir. While it’s considered quite “touristy”, Sonia agreed to come along because they’re really well regarded. The Brunch was so-so (for a vegetarian), but the music was great. The group comprises seven women and two men, each with the superlative operatic voices of a Gospel Choir singer. Add a generous helping of evangelical fervor and their performance was really mesmerizing.
Between acts, they worked the crowds, bringing people on stage and getting them involved. At one stage the “Boss” looked in our direction and pointed to JV and Sonia’s daughter. “Could you come up to the stage, please?” he asked. Their daughter was feeling really shy, but the two boys got out of their chairs smartly, and offered to accompany her. That seemed to give her some courage, and I got up to escort them backstage. However, her courage gave up a few steps later, and she turned around. Dhruv and Rishab had no such doubts – they went backstage and then up on stage confidently. The “Boss” was a bit disappointed they weren’t girls, but when I explained that she was shy, he accepted it anyway.
Dhruv and Rishab were now center stage, and being feted by the crowd. They seemed to be enjoying it.
“What’s your name?” the “Boss” asked Rishab.
“Rishab,” he replied.
“And what’s yours?” he asked Dhruv.
“Rishab,” Dhruv replied. He was probably so nervous that he forgot his name!! I thought that Rishab would let it slide, but I had another think coming.
“His name is not Rishab! It’s Dhruv!” he said.
The crowd burst out laughing.
The boys got a present (which was supposed to be for Rishab’s sister) and then left.
I was surprised that Dhruv had had the courage to go up and figure it was because Rishab was there with him. Aparna remarked that the Dhruv she had observed these past few days was a very different animal from the shy kid she had known in the Bay Area. She’s right, and we’re only just realizing it.
Non-stop action
Sunday was a really busy day. After a 3AM late night, I would’ve loved to sleep in, but we had a birthday to attend in Battery Park City that evening for Ramesh and Charu’s daughter. It was a surprise, and after some searching, we thankfully made it there in time. The birthday was in the party room of a brand-new building, the Visionaire. Battery Park City is a really different part of New York, with modern steel and glass buildings set on prime real estate on the Hudson. The school is excellent, the views are fantastic, but I believe it gets really cold by the water in winter. Despite all that it still lacks the crowds and vibrancy of Gramercy or Murray Hill. I can’t make up my mind which is better.
On Sunday evening we had a childhood friend and his wife over for a quiet dinner. I hope we weren’t too tired to be good hosts, since we’d had a hectic weekend by any standard.
Lombardi’s Pizza
We had had Lombardi’s Pizza at Sonia’s place before, and enjoyed it every time. Perfect thin crusts, just a suggestion of cheese, and a little sprinkling of ingredients meant that these Pizzas were unlike your normal over-stuffed American Pizza, and much closer to the real Italian stuff we so enjoyed two summer ago. So when Sonia suggested driving down to the place itself and having the Pizza’s fresh, it didn’t take a lot of convincing. My cousin Murali was also visiting, and so we dragged him along too. He’s not a big Pizza fan, but I guess the poor man didn’t have a choice.
Murali and I got off with the kids while Sandhya and Sonia went off to find parking. The kids walked into this wonderful old-world Pizzeria and went straight to the bar. I was about to stop them when I noticed the bartender greet them quite cheerfully. Dhruv and Rishab climbed onto a bar stool and struck up a cheerful conversation with the man, who must’ve been in his early twenties. I was quite surprised by how confident Dhruv was – he’s normally quite shy in such situations.
Sonia and Sandhya joined us a few minutes later, and we took our places at a large round table. I then noticed a small plaque that informed visitors that Lombardi’s was the first place to be granted a license to make Pizzas in the US, over 100 years ago (1905, to be precise). Even if it wasn’t the first, that is an impressive record.
We ordered an assortment of Pizzas, some Bruschetta, and a salad. Some of us had wine, while Sandhya had Sangria. The Pizzas were everything that we expected and more – Lombardi’s is definitely a must-see for anyone in New York.
I felt like having some Tiramisu after dinner, but Sonia refused to let me. “Wait till you see the place I’m taking you,” she said, with more than a hint of the mysterious. Since her surprises have always been good, I didn’t protest.
We then walked around the corner to “Rice to Riches” a place that looks like a Chic Salon at first glance. Inside, it’s anything but. Claiming to be “off the eaten path”, it has nothing but Rice Pudding in different flavors, shapes and sizes. I thought that Sonia had finally made a bad pick. After all, Rice Pudding? Who would’ve thunk it? It turned out fantastic. Of course, given all the flavors it took us ages to choose, but when it finally came, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.
Off piano buying
Michael had been asking me to seriously consider investing in a piano (digital or otherwise) and since we recently got our tax refund, I decided to take the plunge. He said he’d come with me to help me pick one, and so on Friday afternoon, I met him at Sam Ash, a specialty store on 48th Street, just off 7th Avenue. Only New York seems to have stores like Sam Ash – one in each field. Like B&H is for Photography stuff, the place was just full of the most esoteric, yet high-end, equipment that you might want. They didn’t have the entry level model we were interested in, unfortunately, and we returned empty handed. I later took the chance of ordering it online without seeing, and it’s probably the first time I’ve ordered a 140 lb, $800 product without even so much as seeing it.
Friday / Saturday with Manish and Aparna
Manish and Aparna showed up at Sonia’s place on Friday, and she invited us home for dinner that evening. We had initially planned to go out after dinner, but ended up just sitting around chatting. Dhruv went to sleep in their place, and we left him there. He woke the next morning and happily played there for several hours before we went and got him back.
My allergies bothered me quite a bit that morning, and I just took it easy. JV wanted us to come over for an Omelet Brunch, but I just wasn’t up to it. We were going out for dinner and to a bar later in the evening, and I wanted to be fully rested.
At around 7:30 in the evening, we left Dhruv with a sitter at Sonia’s place, and the six of us went out. We parked at the intersection of 27th Street and 5th Avenue – we were going to ilili (http://www.ililinyc.com/) – a Mediterranean Fusion restaurant on 5th Avenue. As we left the car I noticed that we had parked opposite the “Museum of Sex”. The posters for the place were most interesting, and we should check it out sometime soon.
Ilili turned out to be quite an amazing place. We sat in the lounge, instead of the restaurant, and ordered several appetizers. The chef was quite amazing, and even a bowl of Brussels Sprouts turned out fantastic. The Baba Ghannouj, Falafel, Dolma and Warm Eggplant were excellent. The best part of the evening, food and drink wise, was the Martini I had – a “not so bloody martini” – it had a jalapeno that gave it a really fascinating spicy flavor that I haven’t had before. I say “food and drink wise” because the best part of the evening was definitely the crowd and the ambience. We had a couple of models behind us, for example, and almost everyone I saw was interesting. A memorable evening, no doubt.
We had made reservations at Zinc Bar for 10 pm, so we left at around 9:45, and got there a few minutes before the hour. Zinc Bar is a block away from Café Wha? but is far more understated on the outside. We paid our cover charge and entered to find the place largely empty. “Uh-oh!” we thought to ourselves – thinking we had made a mistake coming there – crowds = popularity = a guaranteed good time, in my lexicon. We decided to stay anyway, and took and nice curved couch in the middle, right in front of where the band would be.
“Is there a stand-up comic?” Aparna asked.
“Why?”
“If there is one, he’s definitely going to pick on us, if we sit here.”
I looked around, and remembered the evening at Café Wha? None of us wanted to be singled out for attention.
Manish went off -- to “try to figure out the place,” he said. He came back to reassure us that there was no stand-up comic and we sat back and waited for the band to get going.
I was really keen on going to the Zinc Bar on Friday, because some of New York’s best African bands play there on Fridays, and I’ve been tripping on African music of late. Saturdays is Brazilian Jazz, and the band turned out quite good. The Vocalist was so-so, but the keyboardist and drummer were good, but we were all riveted by the female bass-guitarist. A bit of a mix between Penelope Cruz and Salma Hayek, she had a lot of talent and ‘tude. The band played three 45-minute sets, and in the second set, they were joined by an excellent African-American trumpet player who took the whole evening to a whole new level.
While we were there, we were joined by a couple of Aparna’s cousins – a girl and her husband, and a single young man. Despite the fact that they didn’t know us, we got along surprisingly cordially, and thoroughly enjoyed the evening.
At around 11:30, we left Zinc Bar and decided we were hungry. Kathi Roll Company was just around the corner, and we made a beeline for the place, and joined the long line that was just out the door. A couple of Unda-Aloo rolls later, we headed back outside. Sandhya and Aparna decided they needed something sweet to eat, and went across the street to get some Crêpes. Aparna’s cousin and her husband had left by this time, and Manish, Aparna’s other cousin and I decided to step into Panchito’s Mexican bar and get a Tequila shot to keep us warm. We joined the ladies outside a few minutes later, and finished off some lovely Banana and Chocolate Crêpes standing on the street.
The general consensus after that was that we should go to Café Wha? and so that’s where we went. The place was winding down, and we paid a small amount to get in. The skeleton band that was left by that time was playing quite badly, and we staying for a while, and then left. We got home at around 3 AM, after a really wonderful evening – starting from ilili, through Zinc Bar, Kathi Rolls, Crêpes, and finally Café Wha?
Sunday with the Harlem Gospel Choir
On Sunday, we headed to Times Square for brunch with the Harlem Gospel Choir. While it’s considered quite “touristy”, Sonia agreed to come along because they’re really well regarded. The Brunch was so-so (for a vegetarian), but the music was great. The group comprises seven women and two men, each with the superlative operatic voices of a Gospel Choir singer. Add a generous helping of evangelical fervor and their performance was really mesmerizing.
Between acts, they worked the crowds, bringing people on stage and getting them involved. At one stage the “Boss” looked in our direction and pointed to JV and Sonia’s daughter. “Could you come up to the stage, please?” he asked. Their daughter was feeling really shy, but the two boys got out of their chairs smartly, and offered to accompany her. That seemed to give her some courage, and I got up to escort them backstage. However, her courage gave up a few steps later, and she turned around. Dhruv and Rishab had no such doubts – they went backstage and then up on stage confidently. The “Boss” was a bit disappointed they weren’t girls, but when I explained that she was shy, he accepted it anyway.
Dhruv and Rishab were now center stage, and being feted by the crowd. They seemed to be enjoying it.
“What’s your name?” the “Boss” asked Rishab.
“Rishab,” he replied.
“And what’s yours?” he asked Dhruv.
“Rishab,” Dhruv replied. He was probably so nervous that he forgot his name!! I thought that Rishab would let it slide, but I had another think coming.
“His name is not Rishab! It’s Dhruv!” he said.
The crowd burst out laughing.
The boys got a present (which was supposed to be for Rishab’s sister) and then left.
I was surprised that Dhruv had had the courage to go up and figure it was because Rishab was there with him. Aparna remarked that the Dhruv she had observed these past few days was a very different animal from the shy kid she had known in the Bay Area. She’s right, and we’re only just realizing it.
Non-stop action
Sunday was a really busy day. After a 3AM late night, I would’ve loved to sleep in, but we had a birthday to attend in Battery Park City that evening for Ramesh and Charu’s daughter. It was a surprise, and after some searching, we thankfully made it there in time. The birthday was in the party room of a brand-new building, the Visionaire. Battery Park City is a really different part of New York, with modern steel and glass buildings set on prime real estate on the Hudson. The school is excellent, the views are fantastic, but I believe it gets really cold by the water in winter. Despite all that it still lacks the crowds and vibrancy of Gramercy or Murray Hill. I can’t make up my mind which is better.
On Sunday evening we had a childhood friend and his wife over for a quiet dinner. I hope we weren’t too tired to be good hosts, since we’d had a hectic weekend by any standard.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Summer's Here!!
Midnight exercise
Like most other weeks, the excitement this week started on Friday. I had been trying to meet an ex-colleague for many weeks, and we finally managed to find time on our calendars on Friday evening. We had been trying to coordinate it so that we could meet with our families, but since things weren't working out, we decided to just get together for a drink and involve the families later.
He picked a bar called Ginger Man on 36th St. for us to meet. The timing was such that I took the Waterside Plaza shuttle and got off at 42nd Street and Third Avenue. As I began to walk towards my destination, in a few blocks it became apparent that an attractive Oriental woman was following exactly the same route that I was taking -- a few feet ahead of me. We would come upon a certain intersection and I would turn left or go straight depending on which walk signal I got and it so turned out that she would take the same exact turn. She was a few steps ahead of me, and since this happened many times, I half expected her to stop and ask me why I was following her. This continued all the way to 36th St. -- almost 6 blocks south and three blocks across town -- and as I was looking down at my Blackberry to see the exact address and location of Ginger Man -- I looked up to find that she disappeared, and I was standing right in front of the bar. "Uh-Oh!" I thought to myself, "I hope she hasn't gone in here". I entered the bar expecting to find her pointing me out to the bouncer as a stalker. Thankfully, there was no sign of her and no such thing happened.
Ginger Man turned out to be a great find. Although it was just 6 PM on a Friday evening, the place was crowded enough that we didn't get any place other than standing room in a corridor. After a while, a little space opened up on one of the bars, and we got to sit on a stool and enjoyed some really nice Belgian Hoegaarden. We spent about an hour and a half, after which I headed out to meet Neil Lamba, who was back in town. Neil and I had a couple of drinks, and then since he and his friends wanted to go to Café Wha? and I wasn't in a mood to go there -- we hopped in a cab and headed downtown. They dropped me off at 25th St., and I planned to walk back to Waterside. We had driven down Broadway, and I thought it would be about four or five blocks, but it turned out to be more like eight blocks.
A long walk later, I was about half a block away from waterside, when I saw a girl and a guy carrying a heavy table between them walking up the sidewalk. They were coming right at me, and I pretended to avoid them with mock drama. They put the table down and the girl called out to me in a really plaintive voice "can you please, please help us with this table?" She was sweet (if a little chubby) and I was in a cheerful sort of mood -- and figured that this would be something interesting to experience anyway. So I got one corner of the table and off we went in the opposite direction. I looked at the guy and he was your typical graduate student -- sloppy T-shirt, fuzzy beard, and a funny hat on his head.
"How far?" I asked.
"Oh just a few blocks" she replied.
Half a block later, we ran into a tall, strapping young college kid -- and she corralled him into helping us carry the table. So here we were, a motley crew of four people, carrying this really heavy table up 25th St. They were apparently taking it to a party, and I think the college kid expected to get a free drink out of it at the end. Three or four blocks later, we made a turn on Third Avenue and by this time my arms were really aching. Thankfully, we stopped a few doors down, and then she said "now we have to figure out how to carry this up to the roof." At that point I decided I'd had enough entertainment for the evening, shook hands with all of them and left. I wonder what would've happened if I'd stayed, or gone to the party -- I'm sure it would've been fun.
King-Sized Saturday
With Saturday, our big "Lion King" day arrived. This show was at 2 PM, so we left home at around 11:30 to have lunch at an Indian restaurant close to the theater. "Minar" turned out to be a little dive of a place on 46th St., with a fairly wide, but reasonably priced buffet. A quick lunch later, we walked over Times Square, and since we had some time to kill, spent a few minutes picking out a new pair of jeans at the Levi's store. Looking very tourist-like, with Levi's bag in hand, we took our seats for a few minutes before the show was supposed to start. Dhruv got a cushion to allow him to see better, and our seats were very nice. The Minsikoff Theater was not as large as some of the other Broadway theaters I've been to, and this meant that we had an excellent view of the goings-on.
The show was fantastic -- words cannot begin to describe it -- starting from the portrayal of animals -- the giraffes in particular took the cake -- to the music, props and the overall effect, we were just blown away. One way of measuring the impact of a performance is how many times you feel a chill wind down your spine -- and I must confess that I felt a chill at least five or six times. We had been cautioned that Dhruv may get scared and not enjoy the show -- but he had such a wonderful time that I saw him clap in a way that I've never seen him clap before -- with his hands extended out above his head and a beaming smile from ear to ear. I can't be more specific without ruining the fun for those of you who haven't been yet -- but this is honestly the best three hours I have spent in a long time. We've now seen a few productions on Broadway, and Broadway productions when they are on tour (in San Francisco). A show on Broadway is a show on Broadway -- nothing comes close (even a Broadway show on tour).
Hot Sunday
On Sunday, we had scheduled a picnic in Central Park with Enthu, Charu, and their kids. We packed some veggie burgers and they were going to make sandwiches. We caught the number 6 train up, and met them at the intersection of Fifth Avenue and 72nd St. We picnicked close to the small conservatory pond where scores of young boys were trying to sail little remote controlled sailing boats on the relatively still waters. It was a really hot day -- the mercury was supposed to touch 90°, and we think it might have crossed that.
As we got to the park, Charu got a call from the pizza delivery guy (they had also ordered pizza) and as we were walking towards the rendezvous location, I ran into Amir, Anita and some of their friends. I guess New York is not such a large place after all, and neither is Central Park -- if I (a newcomer) can run into someone I know!
After lunch, we spent some time tossing a Frisbee around (and Dhruv almost beaned an old lady on the forehead -- and got what sounded like a stream of invective as a result) and the kids climbed trees. We left the park at about 3 PM, and as we were crossing Fifth Avenue, we cut across a parade of some sort that had a contingent from (when we were passing it) the Brooklyn Greek Orthodox Church. I did feel bad for their patriarch -- he was walking up Fifth Avenue in all his ceremonial black robes, in that heat.
Like they normally do on a hot and windy day when the pollen is flying around, my allergies began to act up by the evening. By the next morning, I had a full-blown attack and had to take some serious medication and sleep it off. I thought that the urban sprawl of New York would mean that there was less pollen to trigger an allergy attack and was perhaps less careful about taking my allergy medication on time. I should not take things for granted -- it's not only the Bay Area that can trigger really bad attack.
Like most other weeks, the excitement this week started on Friday. I had been trying to meet an ex-colleague for many weeks, and we finally managed to find time on our calendars on Friday evening. We had been trying to coordinate it so that we could meet with our families, but since things weren't working out, we decided to just get together for a drink and involve the families later.
He picked a bar called Ginger Man on 36th St. for us to meet. The timing was such that I took the Waterside Plaza shuttle and got off at 42nd Street and Third Avenue. As I began to walk towards my destination, in a few blocks it became apparent that an attractive Oriental woman was following exactly the same route that I was taking -- a few feet ahead of me. We would come upon a certain intersection and I would turn left or go straight depending on which walk signal I got and it so turned out that she would take the same exact turn. She was a few steps ahead of me, and since this happened many times, I half expected her to stop and ask me why I was following her. This continued all the way to 36th St. -- almost 6 blocks south and three blocks across town -- and as I was looking down at my Blackberry to see the exact address and location of Ginger Man -- I looked up to find that she disappeared, and I was standing right in front of the bar. "Uh-Oh!" I thought to myself, "I hope she hasn't gone in here". I entered the bar expecting to find her pointing me out to the bouncer as a stalker. Thankfully, there was no sign of her and no such thing happened.
Ginger Man turned out to be a great find. Although it was just 6 PM on a Friday evening, the place was crowded enough that we didn't get any place other than standing room in a corridor. After a while, a little space opened up on one of the bars, and we got to sit on a stool and enjoyed some really nice Belgian Hoegaarden. We spent about an hour and a half, after which I headed out to meet Neil Lamba, who was back in town. Neil and I had a couple of drinks, and then since he and his friends wanted to go to Café Wha? and I wasn't in a mood to go there -- we hopped in a cab and headed downtown. They dropped me off at 25th St., and I planned to walk back to Waterside. We had driven down Broadway, and I thought it would be about four or five blocks, but it turned out to be more like eight blocks.
A long walk later, I was about half a block away from waterside, when I saw a girl and a guy carrying a heavy table between them walking up the sidewalk. They were coming right at me, and I pretended to avoid them with mock drama. They put the table down and the girl called out to me in a really plaintive voice "can you please, please help us with this table?" She was sweet (if a little chubby) and I was in a cheerful sort of mood -- and figured that this would be something interesting to experience anyway. So I got one corner of the table and off we went in the opposite direction. I looked at the guy and he was your typical graduate student -- sloppy T-shirt, fuzzy beard, and a funny hat on his head.
"How far?" I asked.
"Oh just a few blocks" she replied.
Half a block later, we ran into a tall, strapping young college kid -- and she corralled him into helping us carry the table. So here we were, a motley crew of four people, carrying this really heavy table up 25th St. They were apparently taking it to a party, and I think the college kid expected to get a free drink out of it at the end. Three or four blocks later, we made a turn on Third Avenue and by this time my arms were really aching. Thankfully, we stopped a few doors down, and then she said "now we have to figure out how to carry this up to the roof." At that point I decided I'd had enough entertainment for the evening, shook hands with all of them and left. I wonder what would've happened if I'd stayed, or gone to the party -- I'm sure it would've been fun.
King-Sized Saturday
With Saturday, our big "Lion King" day arrived. This show was at 2 PM, so we left home at around 11:30 to have lunch at an Indian restaurant close to the theater. "Minar" turned out to be a little dive of a place on 46th St., with a fairly wide, but reasonably priced buffet. A quick lunch later, we walked over Times Square, and since we had some time to kill, spent a few minutes picking out a new pair of jeans at the Levi's store. Looking very tourist-like, with Levi's bag in hand, we took our seats for a few minutes before the show was supposed to start. Dhruv got a cushion to allow him to see better, and our seats were very nice. The Minsikoff Theater was not as large as some of the other Broadway theaters I've been to, and this meant that we had an excellent view of the goings-on.
The show was fantastic -- words cannot begin to describe it -- starting from the portrayal of animals -- the giraffes in particular took the cake -- to the music, props and the overall effect, we were just blown away. One way of measuring the impact of a performance is how many times you feel a chill wind down your spine -- and I must confess that I felt a chill at least five or six times. We had been cautioned that Dhruv may get scared and not enjoy the show -- but he had such a wonderful time that I saw him clap in a way that I've never seen him clap before -- with his hands extended out above his head and a beaming smile from ear to ear. I can't be more specific without ruining the fun for those of you who haven't been yet -- but this is honestly the best three hours I have spent in a long time. We've now seen a few productions on Broadway, and Broadway productions when they are on tour (in San Francisco). A show on Broadway is a show on Broadway -- nothing comes close (even a Broadway show on tour).
Hot Sunday
On Sunday, we had scheduled a picnic in Central Park with Enthu, Charu, and their kids. We packed some veggie burgers and they were going to make sandwiches. We caught the number 6 train up, and met them at the intersection of Fifth Avenue and 72nd St. We picnicked close to the small conservatory pond where scores of young boys were trying to sail little remote controlled sailing boats on the relatively still waters. It was a really hot day -- the mercury was supposed to touch 90°, and we think it might have crossed that.
As we got to the park, Charu got a call from the pizza delivery guy (they had also ordered pizza) and as we were walking towards the rendezvous location, I ran into Amir, Anita and some of their friends. I guess New York is not such a large place after all, and neither is Central Park -- if I (a newcomer) can run into someone I know!
After lunch, we spent some time tossing a Frisbee around (and Dhruv almost beaned an old lady on the forehead -- and got what sounded like a stream of invective as a result) and the kids climbed trees. We left the park at about 3 PM, and as we were crossing Fifth Avenue, we cut across a parade of some sort that had a contingent from (when we were passing it) the Brooklyn Greek Orthodox Church. I did feel bad for their patriarch -- he was walking up Fifth Avenue in all his ceremonial black robes, in that heat.
Like they normally do on a hot and windy day when the pollen is flying around, my allergies began to act up by the evening. By the next morning, I had a full-blown attack and had to take some serious medication and sleep it off. I thought that the urban sprawl of New York would mean that there was less pollen to trigger an allergy attack and was perhaps less careful about taking my allergy medication on time. I should not take things for granted -- it's not only the Bay Area that can trigger really bad attack.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Lots of Birthdays
After 12 weeks in New York, we had begun to wonder why we were having such a different experience here, compared to our time in the Bay Area. Sandhya summed it up in one two-word phrase: Birthday Parties.
Having lived in the Bay Area for 10 years, we had a large community of good friends, and since a lot of them had had children at around the same time as we had Dhruv, we would end up spending a lot of time on weekends attending kids’ birthday parties. In New York, since our circle of friends is much smaller, we’ve had no invitations to kids’ birthdays, and consequently, we’ve had the weekends free to visit the museums, zoos, parks and the like. Until this week, that is…
Return flight snafu
But I get ahead of myself. As I mentioned earlier, I had a business trip to California, and Monday morning found me on the E train making the trek back to JFK. I arrived in the Bay Area on Monday afternoon, and plunged into work-related discussions at once. I had several meetings the next day, and since I found myself in the Fremont area in the evening, I asked Kala to pick me up and we had dinner at her place.
At her home, I tried to check in online, but couldn’t do so, because I had flown into the Bay Area on United Airlines, and my flight out was on Delta, but with a United ticket. Anyway, since I had no check-in baggage, I would have plenty of time to check in at a kiosk and board my 10:30 pm red-eye back to New York.
We left Fremont at around 9 pm, and as we were passing through Union City, Kala didn’t make a left onto Decoto Road like I expected her to…
“Left! Left!” I called out, thinking that she’d missed the turn by mistake.
“I always take the San Mateo bridge.” Kala replied. Given how much she and her husband travel, I knew better than to argue.
The San Mateo bridge always makes me nervous; the long span means that there so much more distance in which an accident can really mess things up. We were making good time, and in a few minutes, we were on Highway 92 heading westbound, when we were suddenly detoured off the Freeway onto Clawiter Road. “Road repairs,” I thought to myself “we’ll be back on the highway in a few minutes.”
Kala followed the detour signs expecting to be routed back on the freeway, but we found that the only route would take us in the opposite direction. I looked out along the freeway and saw a solid line of tail-lights in the distance. Oh-oh.
We stopped by one of the flag-men directing vehicles. “How can we get onto the San Mateo bridge?” Kala asked him.
“Didn’t you hear? A boat hit the bridge, and a big-rig overturned; the bridge has been closed indefinitely. He replied.
We quickly turned around and headed straight for the Dumbarton Bridge. We passed our old home and I looked at my watch – it was 45 minutes to my flight time – and I told Kala “Let’s forget it – there’s no way I’m going to make it.”
“No way, Gunsi,” she replied. “I’m going to get you on the flight.”
20 minutes later, believe it or not, we pulled up at the Delta terminal in San Francisco Airport. I ran inside and tried to check into a kiosk. “We are unable to check you in at this time. Please see an agent.” It said.
I rushed over to an agent, who tried pulling up my reservation. He picked up the phone and called someone. After a short conversation he looked at me: “I’m sorry sir, it’s 25 minutes before the flight, and the flight is closed.” He replied. “If you had checked in online, we would have held your seat, but since you didn’t we gave it to a standby passenger.”
My entreaties were of no use, and I called Kala and asked her to turn around and pick me up. I had important meetings in New York the next day, and I spent the drive back emailing people and having other colleagues cover for me. Kala was really guilty that she had made me miss my flight, but I tried consoling her “It was a one-in-a-million occurrence,” I said.
The only flight I could get onto without a hefty penalty was at 6:30 am the next morning, and so I spent the night tossing and turning, worrying that I wouldn’t get up on time. I had called a cab to take me to the airport, and thankfully, I had no problems in the morning.
I arrived in New York and called Sandhya. Lata Mukundan, her good college friend and our neighbor in Fremont, was arriving in New York’s Penn Station from Philadelphia, where she was spending the spring break week with her sister. I had planned to take the “E” train to New York, but decided to take the Long Island Railroad from Archer Blvd instead. That would bring me into Penn station at around the same time, and we could go home together. It worked without a hitch, and 15 minutes after boarding the train at Archer Blvd., I was pulling into Penn Station.
We took the M16 home, and I arrived by 4:30 pm. Radha and Mahesh were getting ready to leave, to go spend a few days with a friend of theirs in Connecticut. Unfortunately, because of the airline snafu, I had not spent any time with them at all. It sounded like they had had an enjoyable trip, having spent two days using the hop-on hop-off tour bus to see all the sights, and having spent a day at the Met.
Lata and her kids took up residence in the guest room that Radha and Mahesh had just vacated, ensuring the reputation of the Ganapathy-Rajan household as an “open door” was protected! That night, I suggested that Lata and Sandhya go out and sample some of New York’s night life, while I’d stay home and look after the kids. I had slept little the previous night, and looked forward to crashing early on my own bed. Unfortunately, that was not to be – Dhruv and Vishruth slept in our bed, and I ended up on the Air Bed.
Sandhya and Dhruv took them on a “Duck” tour of New York City the next day, and she left in the afternoon.
Concert surprise
It was a Thursday, and since I had been in California on Monday, I went for a make-up music lesson. Michael had given me some really difficult pieces to learn, and because of my travel, I was ill-prepared. I blundered through the lesson, and was somewhat glad when it was over. I have to be more diligent at finding time to play.
As I was getting ready to leave, he asked me “Will you be willing to play at a concert of my students? In the first week of June.”
“Why not?” I replied. . I had the Juilliard in mind, and little did I know what I was signing up for.
He brought out a Manila envelope with the programs of his previous student concerts. “Here, this child – she was 6 years old. That boy, he was seven.” Then it dawned on me. There would be a score of children between 5 and 10, and then there would be me, approaching 40!! But there was no going back, and I’m now nervous about the pieces he’s suggesting I play. Charlie Chaplin’s “Smile”, Mozart’s “Lullaby”, A Russian Folk Song by Beethoven, and “Yankee Doodle”. Except the last one, I can’t play any of them halfway properly. And I have 6 weeks to go!!
Sandhya – Birthday # 1
Sandhya turned 36 on April 18th, and given all the guests we had had this week, she didn’t want to celebrate. But we found ourselves free on Friday, and so we called Sonia and asked her if we could leave Dhruv with her. Of course she obliged, and I made reservations at Vatan, a Gujarati restaurant a few blocks away. I had eaten there a few times before, and remember a prix fixe “Thali” of really tasty Gujarati food. You also sat cross-legged in a place that was done up like a village in India, with a tree spreading its branches like the Banyan tree that’s the fixture in any Indian village.
Unfortunately, between the last time I was there and this time, they had extensively redecorated the place, and gone were low tables and mattresses on which you sat cross-legged. We were given a small table in a narrow ‘alley’ upstairs, and while the food was reasonably good, the ambience had done, and the experience was disappointing. One improvement, however, was that the servings were much smaller, and we didn’t stuff our faces like I remember doing the previous times I had been there.
Since our reservation was for 6:30 pm, we were back in Sonia’s place at 8:00. It was also Jai’s birthday, and we polished off a couple of bottles of wine in his and Sandhya’s honor. Unfortunately, he was in India, and couldn’t join us…!
Mythili – Birthday # 2
Nitu’s daughter Mythili’s first birthday was being celebrated in an Indian restaurant in Morris Plains, New Jersey, an hour’s drive away. We reserved a ZipCar, and since we were going all the way there, I had emailed Kannan and Prasanna, classmates from business school who were married to each other, and who lived in that neck of the woods. We left Waterside at around 8:45 am, and a few missed exits later, pulled in their driveway at 10:00 am. They used to live in South Africa, and their lovely suburban home was beautifully and tastefully decorated with solid furniture and African artifacts. We spent a pleasant morning drinking Chai and eating Samosas in their sunlight dining area, overlooking a little wood behind. Their son played the piano for us – he was learning the Jazz piano and was participating in a National Level competition the next day – and he was frightfully talented. I put in a shamefully inadequate performance and Kannan gamely congratulated me on doing so well after just a few weeks of lessons.
We then set off for the birthday, arriving a little before noon. The party was in full swing, and a clown was entertaining the kids. We soon saw Dhruv being chased by, or chasing, a bunch of kids, and realized that the fact that he knew nobody other than Nandini was making no difference to him.
To our pleasant surprise, I found a few people I had known before (and had lost touch with), and spent the afternoon catching up with them. I had never expected to run into people I knew, and this was a pleasant surprise.
Since we had the car till 5:00 pm, we decided to go to Nitu / Ganesh’s place for some time, before driving back across the Hudson. Dhruv wanted to ride in Nandini’s van, so Sandhya and I drove off ahead. As we were approaching Newport, we saw a long line of traffic backing up, a few miles from the Holland Tunnel. We quickly took an exit, and navigated through bumper-to-bumper traffic on city streets to Nitu’s apartment. It was almost 3:30, and I was nervous about not making it back in time. I called Zipcar, and they confirmed that Yes, I did have to return it to the same location, and No, I couldn’t extend my reservation because someone had it after me. Gulp. ZipCar’s Late fees start at $50.
I decided to drop Sandhya off and immediately hit the road to get back to Waterside. I had been using the GPS on my Blackberry and because of the handsfree laws in this part of the world, a Bluetooth headset. My cellphone battery was now down to one bar. I turned off the Bluetooth.
I soon plunged into the bumper-to-bumper traffic leading into the tunnel. I patiently waited behind a long line of traffic in the right lane (which I knew would turn into the tunnel), while traffice whizzed by in the left lane. I knew that they were probably going ahead and then cutting back into the right lane and entering the tunnel, but the law-abiding side of me refused to let me do the same thing. I crawled along, wondering when I should call ZipCar to say I wouldn’t be able to make it back in time. 4:15? 4:30? I decided that if I wasn’t inside the tunnel by 4:30, I’d call them.
At 4:25, I made the final right turn to the tunnel. As I was pulling into the EZ-Pass lane, I noticed an warning light had come on and the steering wheel had suddenly become really hard – almost immovable. I called Zipcar again – and told them what was happening. “Thank you, Sir. We’ll make sure to tell the next member” she cheerfully replied.
I drove slowly through the tunnel and got out on the other side. It was 4:35. The steering was worse. I navigated the narrow streets of SoHo, too nervous to take in the beautiful buildings in the area. The streets were crowded with tourists, most of them too busy taking photographs or taking in the scenery to notice when they had a “Walk” signal. The steering was really awful by this time. I decided that Zipcar needed to know that the car would be effectively unusable by the next member. Consequences be damned. I called then again.
“There’s this alarm light on the dash, and the steering is really hard.” I told ‘Wayne’ from ZipCar. I had the message well-honed by this time, and my battery was really low. I was also in a part of town that I didn’t know well enough for me to turn off the GPS / Maps to conserve batter. I was hoping this would get me off the hook and I wouldn’t have to return it by 5:00.
“No problem. This happens with the Mazdas,” he replied. “Just turn off the engine and start it again.”
I had just pulled up at a red light, and decided to try. Hoping that it wouldn’t fix the problem, I restarted the car. Just my luck – the light went out, and the steering was wonderfully free again. “Yes, it’s working now,” I said. “I’ve been driving slowly because of the steering and hope to make it back by 5 pm.”
“Oh, I can give you another half-hour” He said.
Whew!! What a relief that was. My drive back was trouble free after that, and I got to Waterside at around 5:10.
My cousin Murali came in from India that night, and Dhruv dodged sleeping in his own bedroom on one more night. Lata was supposed to come and spend Saturday afternoon with us, because she had a flight to catch the next morning, from JFK. However, she changed her mind and stayed on with her sister – I don’t know what we would’ve done if she’d come with her two kids – even the Air Bed might not have been enough.
Anya – Birthday # 3
On Sunday morning, Lata called from JFK airport.
“They’re asking for volunteers to take a later flight,” she told Sandhya. “Can I come and spend some time at your place and catch a flight in the evening?”
“Of course,” Sandhya replied.
We had a birthday to attend, and rushed off to the Upper East Side, hoping to back quickly so that we could spend time with Lata and the kids. To our pleasant surprise, we again met people I had known before, and despite not knowing anyone other than the hosts, we spent a pleasant morning at the birthday party. We even met someone who was Lata’s sister’s classmate at Engineering School, and who knew Lata well!
Staten Island Ferry
We got back and hustled Lata and the kids out of the house, to make the most of the few hours they had left. Given that we were seven of us (Murali, Lata, Us and three kids), we took an M15 bus down to South Ferry, to take the Staten Island Ferry out to Staten Island and back. I had figured out the right subway for her to take to get to the airport in time for her 7 pm flight.
“You have your boarding pass, don’t you?” I confirmed with Lata.
“Yes, I do.” She replied.
The bus meandered around Chinatown, and finally got us to South Ferry by 10 minutes to 4. We quickly ran inside the ferry building, and boarded the 4:00 pm Ferry outbound. I verified that there was a ferry coming immediately back – we didn’t have any margin of error and I didn’t want to be stuck on Staten Island.
The ferry ride was uneventful. We enjoyed spectacular clear and warm weather, and a lovely view of the Statue of Liberty. Best of all, the ride is free, the boat is large and comfortable, and the children had a free run of the place.
We docked back by 5:00 pm, and we walked quickly to the Broad Street subway station. I had planned for her to catch the J or Z line to Jamaica, and then the AirTraain. We shot off a quick picture in front of the NYSE and then went down the stairs to find the subway station locked. I checked a few other entrances, and they were all closed.
“Where can we enter the subway station?” I called out to the policeman on duty at the NYSE.
“The station’s closed on weekends.” he replied.
Uh-oh. Not a cab in sight, and I had no idea which way to walk. I decided to walk towards the water, figuring I’d hit FDR drive sooner or later. Thankfully, we found a cab a couple of blocks away, put Lata and the kids in, and had them off on their merry way.
We then boarded an M15 bus back to Murray Hill, where we planned to have dinner at Ali Baba, which was Zagat’s top-rated Turkish restaurant in Manhattan.
While we were on the bus, Lata called.
“I’m crossing Flatbrush Avenue,” she said “do you know how long it takes from here?”
“What does the driver say?” Sandhya asked her.
“He’s busy talking on the phone so I can’t ask him,” she replied.
I quickly pulled up Google maps and tried to find where she was. Thankfully, she seemed no more than 15 minutes from the airport. As we got off the bus, she called back to say she had arrived in time. Whew.
We had dinner and then went home. The dinner wasn’t as spectacular as we thought it would be – although we were pleasantly surprised by the number of vegetarian options they had.
The story doesn’t end there. Lata called the next morning, from Salt Lake City. It turned out that she hadn’t had a boarding pass, something that was pointed out to her when she tried to go through security. She dashed back to the counter to find a long line. She frantically searched for, and found, a supervisor, who told her it was too late. She was then put on a flight to Salt Lake City, spent the night there, and then went on to San Francisco on Monday morning.
Sandhya remarked that my “Airline Karma” was really bad this year. First we missed our US Airways connection in Charlotte. Then I had problems boarding a flight to Thailand because my passport didn’t have 6 months validity. Then I had missed my flight from SFO, and finally this. I’ve got to be more careful this year, just in case she’s right.
Having lived in the Bay Area for 10 years, we had a large community of good friends, and since a lot of them had had children at around the same time as we had Dhruv, we would end up spending a lot of time on weekends attending kids’ birthday parties. In New York, since our circle of friends is much smaller, we’ve had no invitations to kids’ birthdays, and consequently, we’ve had the weekends free to visit the museums, zoos, parks and the like. Until this week, that is…
Return flight snafu
But I get ahead of myself. As I mentioned earlier, I had a business trip to California, and Monday morning found me on the E train making the trek back to JFK. I arrived in the Bay Area on Monday afternoon, and plunged into work-related discussions at once. I had several meetings the next day, and since I found myself in the Fremont area in the evening, I asked Kala to pick me up and we had dinner at her place.
At her home, I tried to check in online, but couldn’t do so, because I had flown into the Bay Area on United Airlines, and my flight out was on Delta, but with a United ticket. Anyway, since I had no check-in baggage, I would have plenty of time to check in at a kiosk and board my 10:30 pm red-eye back to New York.
We left Fremont at around 9 pm, and as we were passing through Union City, Kala didn’t make a left onto Decoto Road like I expected her to…
“Left! Left!” I called out, thinking that she’d missed the turn by mistake.
“I always take the San Mateo bridge.” Kala replied. Given how much she and her husband travel, I knew better than to argue.
The San Mateo bridge always makes me nervous; the long span means that there so much more distance in which an accident can really mess things up. We were making good time, and in a few minutes, we were on Highway 92 heading westbound, when we were suddenly detoured off the Freeway onto Clawiter Road. “Road repairs,” I thought to myself “we’ll be back on the highway in a few minutes.”
Kala followed the detour signs expecting to be routed back on the freeway, but we found that the only route would take us in the opposite direction. I looked out along the freeway and saw a solid line of tail-lights in the distance. Oh-oh.
We stopped by one of the flag-men directing vehicles. “How can we get onto the San Mateo bridge?” Kala asked him.
“Didn’t you hear? A boat hit the bridge, and a big-rig overturned; the bridge has been closed indefinitely. He replied.
We quickly turned around and headed straight for the Dumbarton Bridge. We passed our old home and I looked at my watch – it was 45 minutes to my flight time – and I told Kala “Let’s forget it – there’s no way I’m going to make it.”
“No way, Gunsi,” she replied. “I’m going to get you on the flight.”
20 minutes later, believe it or not, we pulled up at the Delta terminal in San Francisco Airport. I ran inside and tried to check into a kiosk. “We are unable to check you in at this time. Please see an agent.” It said.
I rushed over to an agent, who tried pulling up my reservation. He picked up the phone and called someone. After a short conversation he looked at me: “I’m sorry sir, it’s 25 minutes before the flight, and the flight is closed.” He replied. “If you had checked in online, we would have held your seat, but since you didn’t we gave it to a standby passenger.”
My entreaties were of no use, and I called Kala and asked her to turn around and pick me up. I had important meetings in New York the next day, and I spent the drive back emailing people and having other colleagues cover for me. Kala was really guilty that she had made me miss my flight, but I tried consoling her “It was a one-in-a-million occurrence,” I said.
The only flight I could get onto without a hefty penalty was at 6:30 am the next morning, and so I spent the night tossing and turning, worrying that I wouldn’t get up on time. I had called a cab to take me to the airport, and thankfully, I had no problems in the morning.
I arrived in New York and called Sandhya. Lata Mukundan, her good college friend and our neighbor in Fremont, was arriving in New York’s Penn Station from Philadelphia, where she was spending the spring break week with her sister. I had planned to take the “E” train to New York, but decided to take the Long Island Railroad from Archer Blvd instead. That would bring me into Penn station at around the same time, and we could go home together. It worked without a hitch, and 15 minutes after boarding the train at Archer Blvd., I was pulling into Penn Station.
We took the M16 home, and I arrived by 4:30 pm. Radha and Mahesh were getting ready to leave, to go spend a few days with a friend of theirs in Connecticut. Unfortunately, because of the airline snafu, I had not spent any time with them at all. It sounded like they had had an enjoyable trip, having spent two days using the hop-on hop-off tour bus to see all the sights, and having spent a day at the Met.
Lata and her kids took up residence in the guest room that Radha and Mahesh had just vacated, ensuring the reputation of the Ganapathy-Rajan household as an “open door” was protected! That night, I suggested that Lata and Sandhya go out and sample some of New York’s night life, while I’d stay home and look after the kids. I had slept little the previous night, and looked forward to crashing early on my own bed. Unfortunately, that was not to be – Dhruv and Vishruth slept in our bed, and I ended up on the Air Bed.
Sandhya and Dhruv took them on a “Duck” tour of New York City the next day, and she left in the afternoon.
Concert surprise
It was a Thursday, and since I had been in California on Monday, I went for a make-up music lesson. Michael had given me some really difficult pieces to learn, and because of my travel, I was ill-prepared. I blundered through the lesson, and was somewhat glad when it was over. I have to be more diligent at finding time to play.
As I was getting ready to leave, he asked me “Will you be willing to play at a concert of my students? In the first week of June.”
“Why not?” I replied. . I had the Juilliard in mind, and little did I know what I was signing up for.
He brought out a Manila envelope with the programs of his previous student concerts. “Here, this child – she was 6 years old. That boy, he was seven.” Then it dawned on me. There would be a score of children between 5 and 10, and then there would be me, approaching 40!! But there was no going back, and I’m now nervous about the pieces he’s suggesting I play. Charlie Chaplin’s “Smile”, Mozart’s “Lullaby”, A Russian Folk Song by Beethoven, and “Yankee Doodle”. Except the last one, I can’t play any of them halfway properly. And I have 6 weeks to go!!
Sandhya – Birthday # 1
Sandhya turned 36 on April 18th, and given all the guests we had had this week, she didn’t want to celebrate. But we found ourselves free on Friday, and so we called Sonia and asked her if we could leave Dhruv with her. Of course she obliged, and I made reservations at Vatan, a Gujarati restaurant a few blocks away. I had eaten there a few times before, and remember a prix fixe “Thali” of really tasty Gujarati food. You also sat cross-legged in a place that was done up like a village in India, with a tree spreading its branches like the Banyan tree that’s the fixture in any Indian village.
Unfortunately, between the last time I was there and this time, they had extensively redecorated the place, and gone were low tables and mattresses on which you sat cross-legged. We were given a small table in a narrow ‘alley’ upstairs, and while the food was reasonably good, the ambience had done, and the experience was disappointing. One improvement, however, was that the servings were much smaller, and we didn’t stuff our faces like I remember doing the previous times I had been there.
Since our reservation was for 6:30 pm, we were back in Sonia’s place at 8:00. It was also Jai’s birthday, and we polished off a couple of bottles of wine in his and Sandhya’s honor. Unfortunately, he was in India, and couldn’t join us…!
Mythili – Birthday # 2
Nitu’s daughter Mythili’s first birthday was being celebrated in an Indian restaurant in Morris Plains, New Jersey, an hour’s drive away. We reserved a ZipCar, and since we were going all the way there, I had emailed Kannan and Prasanna, classmates from business school who were married to each other, and who lived in that neck of the woods. We left Waterside at around 8:45 am, and a few missed exits later, pulled in their driveway at 10:00 am. They used to live in South Africa, and their lovely suburban home was beautifully and tastefully decorated with solid furniture and African artifacts. We spent a pleasant morning drinking Chai and eating Samosas in their sunlight dining area, overlooking a little wood behind. Their son played the piano for us – he was learning the Jazz piano and was participating in a National Level competition the next day – and he was frightfully talented. I put in a shamefully inadequate performance and Kannan gamely congratulated me on doing so well after just a few weeks of lessons.
We then set off for the birthday, arriving a little before noon. The party was in full swing, and a clown was entertaining the kids. We soon saw Dhruv being chased by, or chasing, a bunch of kids, and realized that the fact that he knew nobody other than Nandini was making no difference to him.
To our pleasant surprise, I found a few people I had known before (and had lost touch with), and spent the afternoon catching up with them. I had never expected to run into people I knew, and this was a pleasant surprise.
Since we had the car till 5:00 pm, we decided to go to Nitu / Ganesh’s place for some time, before driving back across the Hudson. Dhruv wanted to ride in Nandini’s van, so Sandhya and I drove off ahead. As we were approaching Newport, we saw a long line of traffic backing up, a few miles from the Holland Tunnel. We quickly took an exit, and navigated through bumper-to-bumper traffic on city streets to Nitu’s apartment. It was almost 3:30, and I was nervous about not making it back in time. I called Zipcar, and they confirmed that Yes, I did have to return it to the same location, and No, I couldn’t extend my reservation because someone had it after me. Gulp. ZipCar’s Late fees start at $50.
I decided to drop Sandhya off and immediately hit the road to get back to Waterside. I had been using the GPS on my Blackberry and because of the handsfree laws in this part of the world, a Bluetooth headset. My cellphone battery was now down to one bar. I turned off the Bluetooth.
I soon plunged into the bumper-to-bumper traffic leading into the tunnel. I patiently waited behind a long line of traffic in the right lane (which I knew would turn into the tunnel), while traffice whizzed by in the left lane. I knew that they were probably going ahead and then cutting back into the right lane and entering the tunnel, but the law-abiding side of me refused to let me do the same thing. I crawled along, wondering when I should call ZipCar to say I wouldn’t be able to make it back in time. 4:15? 4:30? I decided that if I wasn’t inside the tunnel by 4:30, I’d call them.
At 4:25, I made the final right turn to the tunnel. As I was pulling into the EZ-Pass lane, I noticed an warning light had come on and the steering wheel had suddenly become really hard – almost immovable. I called Zipcar again – and told them what was happening. “Thank you, Sir. We’ll make sure to tell the next member” she cheerfully replied.
I drove slowly through the tunnel and got out on the other side. It was 4:35. The steering was worse. I navigated the narrow streets of SoHo, too nervous to take in the beautiful buildings in the area. The streets were crowded with tourists, most of them too busy taking photographs or taking in the scenery to notice when they had a “Walk” signal. The steering was really awful by this time. I decided that Zipcar needed to know that the car would be effectively unusable by the next member. Consequences be damned. I called then again.
“There’s this alarm light on the dash, and the steering is really hard.” I told ‘Wayne’ from ZipCar. I had the message well-honed by this time, and my battery was really low. I was also in a part of town that I didn’t know well enough for me to turn off the GPS / Maps to conserve batter. I was hoping this would get me off the hook and I wouldn’t have to return it by 5:00.
“No problem. This happens with the Mazdas,” he replied. “Just turn off the engine and start it again.”
I had just pulled up at a red light, and decided to try. Hoping that it wouldn’t fix the problem, I restarted the car. Just my luck – the light went out, and the steering was wonderfully free again. “Yes, it’s working now,” I said. “I’ve been driving slowly because of the steering and hope to make it back by 5 pm.”
“Oh, I can give you another half-hour” He said.
Whew!! What a relief that was. My drive back was trouble free after that, and I got to Waterside at around 5:10.
My cousin Murali came in from India that night, and Dhruv dodged sleeping in his own bedroom on one more night. Lata was supposed to come and spend Saturday afternoon with us, because she had a flight to catch the next morning, from JFK. However, she changed her mind and stayed on with her sister – I don’t know what we would’ve done if she’d come with her two kids – even the Air Bed might not have been enough.
Anya – Birthday # 3
On Sunday morning, Lata called from JFK airport.
“They’re asking for volunteers to take a later flight,” she told Sandhya. “Can I come and spend some time at your place and catch a flight in the evening?”
“Of course,” Sandhya replied.
We had a birthday to attend, and rushed off to the Upper East Side, hoping to back quickly so that we could spend time with Lata and the kids. To our pleasant surprise, we again met people I had known before, and despite not knowing anyone other than the hosts, we spent a pleasant morning at the birthday party. We even met someone who was Lata’s sister’s classmate at Engineering School, and who knew Lata well!
Staten Island Ferry
We got back and hustled Lata and the kids out of the house, to make the most of the few hours they had left. Given that we were seven of us (Murali, Lata, Us and three kids), we took an M15 bus down to South Ferry, to take the Staten Island Ferry out to Staten Island and back. I had figured out the right subway for her to take to get to the airport in time for her 7 pm flight.
“You have your boarding pass, don’t you?” I confirmed with Lata.
“Yes, I do.” She replied.
The bus meandered around Chinatown, and finally got us to South Ferry by 10 minutes to 4. We quickly ran inside the ferry building, and boarded the 4:00 pm Ferry outbound. I verified that there was a ferry coming immediately back – we didn’t have any margin of error and I didn’t want to be stuck on Staten Island.
The ferry ride was uneventful. We enjoyed spectacular clear and warm weather, and a lovely view of the Statue of Liberty. Best of all, the ride is free, the boat is large and comfortable, and the children had a free run of the place.
We docked back by 5:00 pm, and we walked quickly to the Broad Street subway station. I had planned for her to catch the J or Z line to Jamaica, and then the AirTraain. We shot off a quick picture in front of the NYSE and then went down the stairs to find the subway station locked. I checked a few other entrances, and they were all closed.
“Where can we enter the subway station?” I called out to the policeman on duty at the NYSE.
“The station’s closed on weekends.” he replied.
Uh-oh. Not a cab in sight, and I had no idea which way to walk. I decided to walk towards the water, figuring I’d hit FDR drive sooner or later. Thankfully, we found a cab a couple of blocks away, put Lata and the kids in, and had them off on their merry way.
We then boarded an M15 bus back to Murray Hill, where we planned to have dinner at Ali Baba, which was Zagat’s top-rated Turkish restaurant in Manhattan.
While we were on the bus, Lata called.
“I’m crossing Flatbrush Avenue,” she said “do you know how long it takes from here?”
“What does the driver say?” Sandhya asked her.
“He’s busy talking on the phone so I can’t ask him,” she replied.
I quickly pulled up Google maps and tried to find where she was. Thankfully, she seemed no more than 15 minutes from the airport. As we got off the bus, she called back to say she had arrived in time. Whew.
We had dinner and then went home. The dinner wasn’t as spectacular as we thought it would be – although we were pleasantly surprised by the number of vegetarian options they had.
The story doesn’t end there. Lata called the next morning, from Salt Lake City. It turned out that she hadn’t had a boarding pass, something that was pointed out to her when she tried to go through security. She dashed back to the counter to find a long line. She frantically searched for, and found, a supervisor, who told her it was too late. She was then put on a flight to Salt Lake City, spent the night there, and then went on to San Francisco on Monday morning.
Sandhya remarked that my “Airline Karma” was really bad this year. First we missed our US Airways connection in Charlotte. Then I had problems boarding a flight to Thailand because my passport didn’t have 6 months validity. Then I had missed my flight from SFO, and finally this. I’ve got to be more careful this year, just in case she’s right.
Monday, April 13, 2009
A low-high week
Ho-hum week
This has been a pretty normal week with nothing major to report. The quiet before the storm, perhaps – we have several friends and family visiting starting this weekend, since this is spring break in New York as well as in the Bay Area.
On Monday, I had meetings to attend in mid-town and the weather was surprisingly wet. I decided not to brave it and took cabs everywhere, and was surprised to find I generally found one pretty quickly. This has been a busy week, work-wise and almost every day I had meetings to travel to. On most occasions, I took public transit – even an Express bus once – which was quite a pleasant and comfortable experience. Google maps let me down once – I had set up a lunch meeting at a Cosi’s near Penn Station, and when I got to the address Google gave me, I found there was no restaurant there. I later realized that it was an “unverified listing” and the actual Cosi was a block away – but since I was there first, and could call the person I was meeting and redirect him, no harm was done. Turned out this was a harbinger of more serious misdirection to come.
I got back from meetings on Thursday to find the apartment full of kids – Sonia’s Daughter and Son, and Pallavi / Uday’s Daughter and Son. They had met in the Plaza, where they were all taking advantage of the excellent weather, and had decided to have an impromptu play-date. I found them all on our bed watching Madagascar 2.
Since Dhruv’s school was closed for Easter on Thursday and Friday, we decided to go to Nitu and Ganesh’s place in Newport on Thursday night. We caught an M23 across town, and then a PATH train to Newport, arriving there around 5:30 pm. Nitu and her kids were in the park (the doorman helpfully informed us) and so we headed over there and spent an hour or so watching the kids play. It was quite a change to see 70% of the kids playing there were Indian – almost made it feel like it was the Bay Area!
Lost on Friday
We spent Thursday night in Newport, and on Friday morning, I made everyone a fluffy omelet using my mother’s special trick (beat the whites separately and mix the yolk in at the end), to the general praise of everyone except my finicky son.
Ganesh was off on Friday and they planned a trip to the New Jersey State Aquarium in Camden, NJ, which Nitu said was half an hour away. I had planned to stay home and work, but since most of Wall Street was closed, I decided to take the day off. We bundled into the van around 11:30, and Ganesh began programming the GPS for our drive there.
He suddenly looked up and turned to Nitu: “Are you sure you said Camden?”
“Why? What’s the problem?”
“It’s 90 miles and 1 ½ hours away,” he replied.
Uh-oh. We didn’t fancy and three hour round trip to an aquarium that was supposed to be so-so in the first place. I pulled it up on Google maps to see where it was, and then realized it was just across the river from Philadelphia. Definitely a no-go.
Since we were all strapped into the car, we didn’t feel like giving up and going back indoors. I pulled up the address for the aquarium in the Bronx, and since that was only 20 minutes away, we decided to head there. We encountered little traffic going through the Holland Tunnel, and within a few minutes after that, found ourselves crossing the Manhattan Bridge. I took a nice picture of the Brooklyn Bridge as we went over. The going was slower through the streets of Brooklyn, but within 40-odd minutes of leaving home and a couple of wrong turns, we arrived at 8, Brooklyn Avenue, the address that Google Maps and the Honda GPS system gave us. But it was nowhere to be seen – the address was nothing but a large parking garage, and passers-by had no idea there was an aquarium in the vicinity.
Back to square one! Two iPhones and two Blackberries were put on a frantic search. I made a few calls to the numbers that Google maps suggested – and they turned out to be Aquarium supplies, or Pet Stores! We finally found that real aquarium was in Coney Island, 40 minutes away. Since the reviews Nitu read on her iPhone were mixed, we were in two minds on going there; when Dhruv complained that he was feeling nauseous, it gave us enough reason to call it quits.
We did get a chance to drive through some lovely parts of Brooklyn – Tree-lined Eastern Parkway with its broad streets, around Prospect Park (which was designed by the same person who designed Central Park, Fredrick Olmstead – legend has it that he liked this better), and then for an excellent Thai lunch at Lemongrass Grill on 7th Avenue. Since Kavi’s Brother-in-law and his wife live in Brooklyn, as we left the restaurant, I punched his address into Google Maps to see whether we were anywhere close to where they lived – and much to my surprise, I found that they were half a block away!! I called him on his cell phone to find that he was out buying groceries, and was walking back home just past where we were parked!! The coincidence was just amazing. They are the only people we know in Brooklyn, and purely by chance, here we were, lunching half a block from where they lived.
Rainy Saturday
Nitu and Ganesh’s daughter spent the night with us – her first sleepover. We were really nervous that she’d ask for her parents in the middle of the night – and the thought of taking her to New Jersey at that hour wasn’t inviting at all. Thankfully, the night passed without incident, and it looks like she quite enjoyed herself. Unfortunately, it rained most of Saturday, which meant that we had to keep the kids indoors, and entertain them with Kids Scrabble and other board games.
Since JV had left on one of his frequent trips to India, Sonia asked us whether we were interested in going to Tiffin Wallah for Chaat – to “make up for the bad experience at Sukhadia” she said. Not that we needed the excuse, we jumped at the opportunity. I made the kids a crossword puzzle to keep them entertained, but it was so easy that they finished it before we had ordered appetizers.
Dhruv, Sandhya and I regularly play Name-Place-Animal-Thing when we travel anywhere, and I engaged Sonia’s kids in that game on our drive home. I bit off a lot more than I could chew – Sonia’s daughter gave me Greek names with Q and a palindrome Icelandic city with a Q. Kids’ general knowledge these days!!
Overall, the rain made for a pretty dull Saturday. Thankfully, Sunday was the exact opposite.
Back to Bronx Zoo on Sunday
Sunday was clear and we thought it would be warm – after all, this was April. Dhruv put on his Crocs and I was just wearing a light jacket. Sandhya wore sandals without socks. We emerged from our building to find it was cold and really windy. In the interests of time, we decided not to go back, but just thrust our hands into our jackets and walked quickly. We had planned to try to take the BMX 19 express bus all the way to the Zoo, but when we reached the stop, we found that there was a half an hour before the next bus. We went by Subway instead. We went through the routine of catching a 6, changing to an express 4 at Grand Central, and then changing at 149th Street / Grand Concourse to a 2 again. However, this time, the station and the train were absolutely empty. It was Easter Sunday, but I didn’t expect such a dramatic drop in ridership.
We got off at West Farms Square / E Tremont Street with a few other white families who seemed to also be heading to the Zoo. A few minutes later, we were inside, and found that the place was quite different from the last time we were there. There were a lot more people, and peacocks wandered around everywhere. One of them posed for us in full glory as we entered. I carried my SLR with all my lenses this time, and took some nice pictures. I hope you can see this slideshow:
We first headed for the Snow Leopards, hoping that they would entertain, just as they had the previous time. Unfortunately, just one of them was in the enclosure, and he lying on a rock in the far end. He yawned lazily as he saw us, and went back to sleep. No chasing the turkeys or running up the tree this time. The polar bear was even worse. Dhruv commented on my disappointment “Oh, that’s because he’s hibernating, Appa! That’s what Polar Bears do!”
A quick side-trip to the Tiger brought more disappointment. The enclosure was really crowded, and Dhruv didn’t want to wriggle his way to the front of the glass. There wasn’t much to see either, just a single Tiger lazing around in front. Nothing like last time, when we had the whole place to ourselves, and three tigers were pacing furiously up and down.
We took a different route this time, and spent several minutes watching a Grizzly Bear in an enclosure just behind the Polar Bear. We watched as he climbed skillfully up some steep rocks, and then walked up and down the enclosure, shaking his head vigorously to get rid of a swarm of flies hovering around. I have a pair of powerful binoculars and through those, we enjoyed watching him close up in a way that was almost intimate.
The route we took this time brought us to the Reptile building. Dhruv has a new-found interest in words, and we’re enjoying watching him try to read every piece of writing he comes across. He was excited to read “Reptiles” and was keen to go in. I put on my Macro lens, and got some excellent close-up shots of a few lizards, a baby alligator, and a Turtle. We were watching the cobras when Dhruv said “I’m sure Lakshmy Patti won’t enjoy this part of the Zoo!” Lakshmy Patti is his grandmother, and she’s fond of displaying mock fear at Snakes because it always tickles him pink.
We suddenly heard a loud gasp from behind and a shrill voice shouted “What’s he doing? Is he eating the other one?” We ran over to find two Monitor lizards begin a mating ritual. I was surprised to find some prudish parents try to hustle their teenage children away from something that’s perfectly natural! I leaned over into Dhruv’s ear and made sure he knew what he was watching. We watched, fascinated, as the Male tried repeatedly to pin down the female, while she continued to move away. They separated for a while, and then later, he tried again. It was fascinating and at the same time horrifying to watch him flick his long tongue time and again on her face and eyes, and try to hold her down by pressing his front paws on her face, during this process. I took some video – and hope you can see it.
After the Reptiles, we headed over to the Butterfly enclosure. The macro lens came in handy again, and among others, I got some nice close-up shots of a Zebra Longwing sucking honey from a flower. The proboscis is clearly visible in the picture.
We had packed Sandwiches for lunch, and grabbed a bite at a picnic table near the Dancing Crane Café. It was only then that we noticed that there were a significantly number of Orthodox Jewish Families visiting the zoo that day – men and older boys dressed in their traditional clothes – hats or skull-caps, locks, and the string hanging from their waists. I wonder what occasion caused that, but never got an opportunity to ask any of them.
After lunch, we headed over to the Lion enclosure. From a distance, we could see a really impressive Lion resting on a rock in the center of the enclosure, facing us. As we watched, Dhruv tried to get him to roar by roaring himself. And to our utter surprise, a few seconds later, I thought we heard a little roar!! Dhruv was really kicked. Some kids around me started to throw sticks into the enclosure, and earned a stern admonishment from me – I was surprised their parents didn’t say or do anything to make them stop. After a while, the Lion got up and walked to one corner of the enclosure, where he was out of sight for a while – all we could see was his magnificent tail swishing around. We had all but given up and were ready to move on, when we came out and began walking back to where he had been resting earlier. And then it happened. While walking back, he let out a mighty roar – I’ve never actually heard one before, but the first one was loud, and then it degenerates into a series of softer and softer grunts. But it was undoubtedly fascinating to hear and raised an already spectacular day to new heights.
We had another intimate encounter with the Giraffes, who were indoors because of the cold. This meant that we were in room not more than 10 feet away from 5 Giraffes, including two lovely babies. A treat, indeed – once we got used to the smell.
Another high point of the visit was the visit to the Gorilla enclosure. We were too late last time, and just got to see them for a few minutes – and were determined not to let that happen this time. We were rewarded with several minutes of closely watching these magnificent, almost-human, animals from a few feet away. I got some nice close-up photographs of a pensive Gorilla – and it brought back some of my earlier doubts at viewing an animal in captivity. The sadness in those eyes, the yearning for a return to the jungles of Congo from where they came – I thought I could see it there.
After a quick run through the Madagascar enclosure, we split up and I went to see the birds of prey. I was really lucky – the Golden Eagle had just been fed, and I got to watch him daintily pick his way through a meal of what looked like a Mouse, but seemed larger. After having eaten what must be the tastiest parts, he proceeded to carefully clean his beak on a branch, and then posed for some nice pictures. Unfortunately, he was close to the wires of his cage when he was eating, and the wires ruined the pictures I took of him during his meal. A few cages down, I caught some excellent pictures of a Bald Eagle – a truly majestic bird and the National Bird of the US. He posed nicely for me, and I got some nice pictures with a light-strike in the eye – critical for a “good” picture.
We left the zoo at around 4 PM, tired but deliriously happy. Dhruv had wanted to go to Central Park in the morning, but we had convinced him to come to the Zoo – and he seemed to be happy at the end.
Radha and Mahesh – friends and neighbors from Fremont – and their kids, came home on Sunday night – they will stay with us for a few days. The Air Bed came out again, and this is going to be a hectic week – we have Lata and her two kids also staying over on Wednesday night. I’m off to California for a two-day business trip tomorrow, so Sandhya’s going to have to manage all on her own.
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