Why would he be so selfish?

A tired and resigned look daubed my face,
I clutched my way to find a seat- much wanted,
A wry looking man occupied the seat next – friendliness on his face – not a trace.

I was feeling bitter and angst seethed beneath my calm reserve,
The man next, occupied more than what should be his legal right,
His legs spread, breaching into space which I deserve.

All the hatred in my heart I did suppress, which I thought magnanimous,
Why would he be so selfish? I did ponder,
Let me pardon men, their trespasses – I smiled feeling auspicious.

My home finally was in sight and I trampled towards the exit ahead,
In deep wonder as I sauntered, a man limped (perhaps polio?) his way, out of the corner,
My heart bled, it was the man for whom contempt I had bred.

Will you buy me some milk?

One fine day a young girl tapped on my hand,
Desolate she looked, sorrow too early for her innocent brow,
Lips curved –where a smile deserved to stand.

Sir, will you buy me some milk, she said in a voice low,
I stared – curiosity asked why do you ask for milk and not anything else?
She smiled, hiding the trouble which brewed in her heart below.

Money – do not mistake me sir – I find no use for,
A pang of hunger from my younger brother does make me stir,
I do not ask for free, this post card for the trade, of this city which I adore.

I smiled, simplicity and the plight had its toll,
Milk was bartered for a tattered post card,
I wished for the grief to fade and for a smile forever to roll.

I wish!

Elusive Chalice

Strife is what they aspire or is it revenge that they conspire?
A country of hundred countries, for peace one does perspire.

A sea of innocence congregates unawares,
Frolic in the sanctity of peace and devoid of cares.

A melancholy does reverberate, an evil frown,
A thud and burst – and all fall down.

Acrid fumes of despondency waft and stare,
Sea of innocence tides in to a wave of despair.

Is it strife or revenge or is it a despotic cloud of malice,
Surmise whatever may, peace remains the elusive chalice.

From pig to man,and from man to pig...

The power of imagination is what propels us beyond the dogma that governs everyday life. We find art in the mundane, we infer from the mistakes of the bygone and we find black humour in the darkest of evils. But, mockingly, this power is unevenly dispersed amongst us. George Orwell –unduly gifted – displays such powers - for us to conjure, for us to satire and for us to propel beyond the routine.

Interpretations can be manifold – from an innocent fairy tale to the darkest hours of history. Orwell spurs us to think, to satire – through cunning use of metaphors in his enigmatic – Animal Farm – and that too written in an era when literary works of a ‘certain class’ were censored by the cohorts involved with this industry.

The book begins with a promise – summoning itself through a dream which occurs to Old Major, outlining and fueling the seeds of a revolution. For starters – Old Major is depicted as a wise and seasoned boar (pig) that inspires thoughts and stimulates a revolution. The revolution is against the torments of the human being – Mr Jones who owns Manor Farm. This revolution succeeds,indeed, only to lead in to strife – which perhaps the mutineers(horses,donkey,hens et al) had no notion of.

The promise personifies through the song ‘Beast of England’ – which takes on the mantle of an anthem for major portion of the revolution and beyond. Orwell weaves magic and imagination and introduces varied characters - including Boxer – a horse and the strongest animal on the farm. Driven by blind faith and ensconced in the motto of ‘I will work harder’ – Boxer is a representation of the proletariat. Your heart, heart of an intellectual, shall let out a yelp – like that of Benjamin the donkey – at the tragic fate of Boxer.

Napoleon (Tyrant Boar) usurps power from Snowball (Friendly Boar) through tact and coterie and, eventually the commandments and promise personified through Old Major’s dreams take a wild and ugly turn.

There are obvious parallels with the Red October Revolution (Russian Revolution) and Stalin’s rise to power. But this fairy tale delivers messages much beyond and is relevant to every era of human history. The pigs succumb to the allures of power to re-interpret promises and even re-invent the definition of a ‘tyrant’ free world. There is a message for the ‘friendly’ neighbours (of the farm) as well.

This is a fairy tale of lessons and juxtapositions. I am sure as you read this masterpiece – you need not cast your mind back to the days of Russian Revolution for the satire to make sense. Just look around you – Animal Farm is alive and the pigs are depicted even today.

Note - I love pigs. It was Orwell's choice of depiction and drawing parallels. Snowball was a good pig after all.

A bystander of pain

The land, desiccated and dried, of strife; awaits a tomorrow,
The land drenched in tears, in blood and in sorrow.

A ruler did vacillate, rerouted history for lack of resolve,
A leader promised choice, which time fails to absolve.

Where beauty once dazzled angels, lakes were tranquil allure,
Azure embraced snow-caps, brooks leapt with verve.

Land besmirched with slaughter and promises stale,
Peace lost in a melancholy cloud, over the vale.

Religion can calm, excite and even torment,
Politics can lead, inspire and even foment.

Land can only be a bystander of pain,
Of blood, of tears and, of people who hope see the azure again.

A day trip around Phnom Penh

After a week of grueling meetings and visits, my colleague and I decided to take time out to explore Cambodia. Initial plan entailed a day trip to Siam Reap, home to Angkor Vat. But then, a day trip would not have however justified the magnificence of Angkor Vat. So we booked a cab for a day trip around Phnom Penh and for a bit of Khmer Rouge history. Our driver, Chanda (Yes Khmer owes its roots to Sanskrit after all) was chirpy and was wearing a dashing green tie as well a sparkling smile!

The name – Cheung Ek Killing Fields is enough to fill your senses with scenes of pathos and with scenes of depravation. The grounds, about 15 Km from Phnom Penh, are in shambles and dotted with overgrown weeds – perhaps acting as a reminder of the iniquity of the past and of Khmer Rouge and of ‘Brother Number 1’ – Pol Pot. A stupa at the center marks as a reminder to this past. It houses a glass case – a column of skulls, which are classified by age and gender. These are remnants, which have been excavated. As you explore the mass graves around the stupa, you might even stumble on fragments of remains. You will also stumble across grim reminders including the ‘magic tree’; which used to have loudspeakers mounted on it – to produce sounds which would veil the moans of the victims.













Closely tied – historically – is the Tuol Sleng School/Prison. Yes, a school which was converted in to a prison by the Khmer Rouge’s secret organization S-21. A grim voice percolates through the cracks on dilapidated walls and on the blood stains which still reek horror and cries of the tales of the era gone by. The tools of torture – iron bars, monkey poles etc survive – to tell a story – a story of moans and of depravity. A chill shall run through your interns as your eyes gaze through the cells which were used to house the victims. I did notice a tremor as I clicked pictures, a shake ever so slight.











Our day trip also consisted of brief visit to the Royal Palace and Silver pagoda. Although, parts are not open to public with further restrictions on photography – the colour and splendour that emanates transport you to the rich historical heritage of the South East Asian region. The Silver Pagoda – also in the same grounds as the Royal Palace boasts of several Buddha statues – dating various periods – including the Emerald Buddha as well as a well-adorned one(with 2086 diamonds). Also, interesting to point out is stark resemblance to the Indian Culture(owing to the history of Angkor as well as Funan and Chenla) – through figures such as the Naga, Elephants and even Lord Ganesha in various inscriptions.












Also – worth a visit in the city of Tuk-tuks and Two-wheelers is the museum. An interesting portion of the museum is the Angkor version of the Ramayana. Also dotted are artifacts and bronze statues of Ganesha,Vishnu as well as Krishna along with Buddha artifacts. Check this statue of Lord Vishnu -












The final stop of the day was the Russian Market. Narrow alleys littered with cheap goods as well as fidgets. And yes a cute monkey made my day -

Saunter...

One night in reverie, I did, saunter,
Gazed up, in awe and, I did, wonder.

O beauty, What do you see? I did, ask,
In mire and smog, why do you bask?

Eons of faith, forgotten and betrayed,
Crusaders of regret, make your divinity fade.

One night in reverie, I did, saunter…

Hushed tone, rustled in good faith,
You see regret, I see passion which, for ages, elate.

Pirouette together, through happiness and sorrow,
A ray of hope shall colander tomorrow.

You see betrayal; I see beauty and attraction,
In the chill of loneliness, we seek warmth and affection.

One night in reverie, I did, saunter..

Suffer I shall...

Peregrination in pursuit eons ere,
A fable of legends, divinity and love; and for every raconteur.

Bridge over waters sacrosanct and shallow,
Good over Evil recounts the legend and of His halo.

Versions interpret, mistrust sometimes even grotesque,
Legal conundrum and political miasma lend to a burlesque.

Sacrilege fume many, of the legendary allegory,
Trade and commerce plethora say sundry.

Sethu or not – Suffer I shall…
Mother Earth does pall.

Comments?

Am I yet to see the second?

Politics has never been a topic which has captured my thought process. But then, is there a thought process when it comes to Indian Politics? You may search tomes of political history, apply theories which would usually lend to various strategies and ruminate to figure out the whole process – the result would be sheer helplessness.

The architect of India’s economic turnaround in 1991 is merely considered to indulge in lip sync. I am sure even his worst (intellectual)detractor would not want to believe this. The same architect and his council of ministers spin a strategy which would almost obviate the Non Proliferation Treaty and yet ensure India is adequately armed for the future in terms of raw materials, power and technology.

Alas! this strategy cannot topple the complex labyrinth of Indian politics. The Marxists do not see how it would cater to present and future needs of the common man. By the way should not this be the foundations of Marxism? Some say this how The Great Wall speaks.

Then there is the Sikh factor. How can we betray our alliance with the NDA and yet how can we topple a Sikh, said one party. And I thought this was restricted to how we choose our Presidents!!

Indian Politics is a complex melodrama. There was Italy which history suggests was confused(inadvertently I must clarify),during the World War. Then we have the Bicycle party which abhors the Elephant Rule in Uttar Pradesh. And then, they would ensure they throw in a spanner or two in the Corporate Brotherly rift.

The looks of this treaty are positive. But, history always rekindles gruesome memories. Some even go to the extent of praying that this not is the next Bofors. Yes, the budget has been lackadaisical and in parts so has been the government (though there are areas which I would say it has been good). But I do hope the no-confidence motion does not spin this ‘possible’ deal into turmoil.

But then, here is another thought. How did we, with our messy democratic framework, ever achieve and sustain the 9% GDP growth rate? Perhaps the devolution of power to Panchayats, ages ago was the first step. Am I yet to see the second?

P.S - The blog has been subject to grammatical scrutiny by the literary genius who happens to be my cousin

Tweety knows no language

From 30,000 feet in the air as Silk Air MI 608 made a slow descent towards the land, all I could descry was a canvas. A canvas utilized by an artist, unconsciously displaying his talent with colours and his/her penchant towards green. A canvas, daubed with patterns of green and brown, kissing the blue horizon and creating a melody of colours. I am 15,000 feet above Phnom Penh (perhaps outskirts) and all my eyes can see (as far as they can see) are beautiful fields speckled with brown rooftops.

My days in Phnom Penh were dotted with a regular and undulating pattern of – Sumptuous Breakfasts in the morning at the Intercontinental, Meetings and Gyaan Sessions, Lunch, Dinner and Sleep! So basically it was about food and meetings.On that note there are more than 20 Indian Restaurants in this city.

It was not all meetings though. If ever Honda sets up a crash test/load test centre for its mopeds (under 50cc kinds), Phnom Penh is the place for it. I had exhilarating ride on one of the ‘Tuk Tuk’s (a moped with a carriage attached). So far so good. Tuk Tuk ride in Phnom Penh sounds fun and local. Hold on! Imagine six fully grown and overfed males returning from dinner in the middle of the night being driven by a drunk Tuk Tuk driver. This realization dawned on us when the driver took us through a one-way street (against the traffic). We read the sign which expressed its desire to be ’One Way’ after we had the passed the street (in the opposite direction of course). In the end we had to part with 6USD for this joy ride. Yes, Khmer Riel is not really a preferred medium of exchange, USD serves you well.

The city has a quaint and an idyllic charm to it. It seems as if this sleepy town does not want to be awakened and at the same time – it seems as if civilization (or modernization as we know it) is hypnotizing it in to a nightmare. A beautiful river side dotted with serene temples, if only man knew conservation.

Anyways I did make a promise to revisit this sleepy town and to immerse myself in this mystic land. A land which was almost wiped out in the 1970s and a land where the new ‘crop’(as a friend there put it) has seen tough times.

As I was leaving Phnom Penh, my mobile phone got so attached to the city that it decided to stay back. However, I have ensured it does reach Singapore in a day or two. No escaping me!

Tired and mystified as I emerged from the security check at the airport, a young girl at the counter smiled and returned my key chain. She smiled again, pointing this time to my key chain. Tweety (which forms a part of my keychain), bright yellow and beaming, can conjure a smile irrespective of race or language– smile knows no language. Tweety knows no language.

...to be a child again

Heavens unfurl, clouds frenzy and angels quench disdain,
Wind unbolts time, to be a child again.

Elements render a heavenly opus,
Mind levitates, disentangling from worldly onus.

Waft of warmth drifts, reassuring divinity,
An aura familiar and soothing, summoning serenity.

A sip of rapture, a caress of warmth and an experience of calm,
A goblet of joy ensconced in my palm.

A goblet of peace...any guesses?

Heavenly Fields of Peace

I wandered as a lonely cloud – a great man once said,
Scars from fumes of progress were not bred.

Caresses of zephyr have flirted with my wake,
Soothing rays have filtered through purity of my make.

Hues of time and season are my reflection,
Azure stretches and silvery countenance - companions of my affliction.

As the Age of success scathes my heart and renders me meek,
Heavenly fields of peace, reeking simplicity, is all I seek.

Ulysses By The Merlion

Found this poem on the plaque by the Merlion. The title of the poem is as the Blog Title says. The poem is written by Edwin Thumboo. It personifies this creature and the island nation.

I have sailed many waters,
Skirted islands of fire,
Contended with Circe
Who loved the squeal of pigs;
Passed Scylla and Charybdis
To seven years with Calypso,
Heaved in battle against the gods.
Beneath it all
I kept faith with Ithaca, travelled,
Travelled and travelled,
Suffering much, enjoying a little;
Met strange people singing
New myths; made myths myself.

But this lion of the sea
Salt-maned, scaly, wondrous of tail,
Touched with power, insistent
On this brief promontory...
Puzzles.

Nothing, nothing in my days
Foreshadowed this
Half-beast, half-fish,
This powerful creature of land and sea.

Peoples settled here,
Brought to this island
The bounty of these seas,
Built towers topless as Ilium's.

They make, they serve,
They buy, they sell.

Despite unequal ways,
Together they mutate,
Explore the edges of harmony,
Search for a centre;
Have changed their gods,
Kept some memory of their race
In prayer, laughter, the way
Their women dress and greet.
They hold the bright, the beautiful,
Good ancestral dreams
Within new visions,
So shining, urgent,
Full of what is now.

Perhaps having dealt in things,
Surfeited on them,
Their spirits yearn again for images,
Adding to the dragon, phoenix,
Garuda, naga those horses of the sun,
This lion of the sea,
This image of themselves.

The Hong Kong Smile

Short trips always hold me in a perplexed state of affairs –
1. What do I pack? How many clothes?
2. More importantly – Will I get time to click?

Unfortunately, second turned out negative with regards to my latest peregrination - Hong Kong.

In retrospect, you could not censure me for having packed my accessories which included the not so ‘light ‘lens set, a camera body and tripod and hence reducing scope for carrying other accessories which would have been construed to be necessary under conditions classified as normal otherwise. With this back ground in mind, I would make an audacious assumption of having the readers pardon my trespasses towards a packing pattern which involves half the bag loaded with camera accessories.

The cramped land of skyscrapers awaited me as boarded SQ 870 from Changi International Airport. A minor blip which I had not foreseen awaited – I had not pre-informed the Singapore Airlines officials of my penchant or strict adherence towards vegetarianism. But SQ proved my loyalty worthwhile as they conjured a vegetarian food packet out of nowhere. ( A friend of mine disapproves of recurrent usage of the word ‘Conjure’ – but I shall withstand the wrath that may accrue, for the want of a better word).

Hong Kong awaited, smiling (I presumed ,veiled behind the immigration officials. The veiled smile seems to have been broadening as the official passed a stern look at my passport. No sooner the official was perplexed – perhaps trying to compare the picture that envisioned itself on the passport to the countenance that, very weirdly, was smiling at him. ( A brief back ground- it was my first trip to Hong Kong and Hong Kong allows visitors with the facility of Visa on arrival and pretty freely I heard)

And before I could realise the thickness of the veil, behind which I still presumed Hong Kong to be smiling, I was escorted to a room which read ‘Immigration Authority’. After a wait which seemed interminable and which was dotted by a grumbling Kenyan by my side, could not blame him it was almost 1 AM, an official; after having taken some time in spotting me in a group of 3 to 4 people, with the aid of the same photograph which had perplexed another official earlier; approached me.

Questions, which I would otherwise have considered invading my right to existence on planet earth barraged at me. I must admit, officials were pleasantly hospitable. Post the torturous wait I was eventually escorted, towards what I assumed the other side of the veil( Remember, the smile is on the other side of the veil!). I was beginning to see the curves of the smile as a hand obstructed my right to free space ahead, admonishingly directing me towards a path which did not allure my senses. My bags were screened and I was made to sit. Then an amazing thing happened.

I was directed to remove my shoes. Considering that I was not in the process which would require fruitful use of my shoes, I readily obliged. The officer then inspected the shoes, looked at it in awe – which I presume would be attributed to the brand name that flashed on them or at the thought of how an object so small could encase such an immensely repelling stink.

Finally!! I was let go – towards the smile – the smile which I presumed to be sustained despite the fact that it inched towards wee hours of the morning. How was that smile? Well that will be another story altogether!

Heavenly Psalm

Starry night sultry night windless calls of heavens beyond,
Jingles of laughter I envision as I thrust my ears against the walls of calm.
A blush gathers on the horizon promising a world of fond,
Moist eyes gaze at stars above; palms feel the mud beneath, as my lips spurt a heavenly psalm.


-Dedicated to people rendered homeless in Myanmar and China

The Case of the Missing Block

It was early parts of my tenure in Shanghai – perhaps April last week of 2008. The exact date eludes my consciousness.

After tiring days of work, luncheons filled with pizzas and burgers and dinners packed with a curious hotchpotch of vegetables conjured by ‘Yours Truly’; Sharath, Kripa and myself embarked on a mission to satiate the long forgotten yet distinctly vivid taste of culinary delicacies from India. And we made a curious pick indeed. We decided to head for Karma(restaurant). The reason for this choice was simply because this place shared the same road as our hotel – Huaihai Road or the internet claimed so,

This,despite warnings from Kripa – ‘Guys, this looks shady!!’ In retrospect and on a closer dissection, based on the information we had, viz. name of the restaurant, Kripa seemed to have a point. Apart from the hard core Subash Ghai fans – who would want to name his/her restaurant Karma? And who would want to dine in a restaurant which would perhaps plays ‘ My Name is Lakhan..Sajnon ka Sajan.’ ? Apparently hunger had numbed all reasoning.

Anyways, our minds, despite interlacing doubts that lingered on the probability of success of the mission, were made up. Conviction ran so deep that we decided to walk it down. Starting from Block 282(Our Base Camp) and ending our mission at Block 1111(Karma), at a rate of approximately 16 Blocks per minute, we estimated a total walk time of 45 minutes.

The peregrination towards the end of all gastronomic distresses began with exuberance and long strides, but as minutes wore on, the rate of ascension in the block numbers began waning threatening to jeopardize our estimated time to target.

Series of ‘Hitachi’ arches and bevies of ‘Brands’ later, we were at Block 1010. Our stomachs did convulse in agony when 1110 was followed by 1112. Our dreams, of hot tandoori roti that shall waft steam as you break, began to blur. But, hold on Ladies and Gentlemen, Yours Truly just had a brain wave.’Hey, we didn’t see any odd-numbered blocks on this side. Guess we are on the wrong side.’

Hope is a funny thing! So began a renewed hunt and exuberance. Quick steps across the other side and Block 1041 smirked at us. We smirked back. We walked past an open area – perhaps an area under construction. Our minds had already pictured Block 1111 greeting us on the other side with arms wide open. Much to our consternation, the block that grinned was 1131! We pottered around, looked in all directions geographically and topographically feasible, within the constraints of the movements allowed by our necks. Block 1111 was not there!!!

So we decided to retrace, perhaps we missed it. Block 1041 smirked. We scowled.

With drooping shoulders we decided to head back to our nest. Dejection soon gave way to hope and the spirit of worldly camaraderie lit in our souls as we vowed to make the evening worthwhile. We decided to switch loyalties and head for a Thai restaurant which we had descried on our way.

Doubt, they say is a root cause of all worldly bothers. But under circumstances which warrant a closer introspection and a careful tread, to be in doubt is not a bad way to go. Anyways, we decided to head straight in to the Thai restaurant and grinned ear-to-ear,at the waitress who approached us, in expectation of a sumptuous dinner. As we perused through the menu our grin transmogrified in to despair. We turned to the waitress who was now inflicted by the grin we had donned a few minutes ago. We conveyed ‘Vegetarian? No Meat?’ She conveyed ‘ Pork?’

The three of us looked at each other at the same time, a feat unachievable under normal circumstances. We scampered out, with shoulders drooping more than ever.

Hope reappeared soon, like a fairy awaiting clouds of despair. We decided to cook it up!!Ah yes! A movie as well. Ah the movie, well that requires another blog altogether...

A voice croons....

When corpus misplaces co-ordination and mind twirls in a miasma,
A voice croons.

Tranquility wafts in a slow rhythm like the smell of the morning tea,
A voice croons.

Haze strips itself and reveals a world that blooms and chirps in harmony,
A voice croons.

Worldly bothers dissipate away like the red autumn leaf from a tree looking beyond winter,
A voice croons.

Weight sheds its ego and mind flees in direction unknown yet splendid,
A voice croons.

Pupil dilates and eyelids compress whilst mind immerses in a trance,
A voice croons.

A voice….Mohd Rafi Forever.

The Story of Shanghai Part 2

Another opportunity to sneak out! This meant a 7 AM excursion to the Jade Buddha Temple also known as Yufo Si.

If you are lucky, you can envisage peace and solitude in the concrete jungles of Shanghai, in this abode – in this monastery, right in the bustle of the city. As I said – if you are lucky. Despite the environs of an active monastery, Yufo Si has been ensnared in the clutches of tourism.














The monastery, architecturally, transports your senses in to the mystique of Buddhism and the charms of a Heavenly Kingdom. The monastery’s pristine architecture stands on wood; polished, preserved and personified and emitting an aura of tranquility.








The monastery is divided in to various chambers. The courtyard, which witnesses congregation of those seeking divine blessings – has ‘Heavenly King Hall’ (housing – among others – Laughing Buddha ,Four Heavenly Kings)on one side, and ‘Grand Hall’ (housing – among others – Three Golden Buddhas) on the other.





















However, the mainstay of the monastery are the two Jade Buddhas(origins seem to be from Burma). The seated Buddha, ensconced in meditation and evoking tranquility, is bedecked with jewels and gems – adding richness and splendour to solitude. The chamber, which houses the larger of the two Jade Buddhas – stirs up sanguinity and inviolability. The other Jade Buddha – Reclining Buddha manifests His peaceful death.
Photographing the two, as expected is prohibited. There is also a replica of the Reclining Buddha, much bigger, made of marble and gifted by the government of Singapore.


















Also, back yard of the monastery – has a small pond, abode to Koi Fish(es). The fish, seeming survives for over 200 years!

As I had indicated – tourism has overwhelmed this tranquil monastery, stealing the other- worldly charms. Go early and you might just catch the twilights of peace!

And yes, there is a restaurant adjoining the monastery, where you can enjoy Buddhist delicacies, devoid of meat, garlic, onion among others. This is what constituted my breakfast –








Bread – perhaps made of maida flour and fried, a taste reminiscent of batura, and soya sauce on side. Oolong tea (Oolong tea leaves in hot water), is a must try as well.

Wounds for Joy...

Toiling by the day and labouring through the night,
But there is only so much I can bear, in this relentless fight!

Hungry mouths aplenty I descry, my bosom shrieks in agony and terror does accrue,
But apathy is not mine, may you not misconstrue.

Pliable I have been, demands afresh and burrows deep,
Scars and wounds I bear for your sake, harmful substances I help seep.

Tears have been in happiness, and wounds for joy,
But there is only so much I can do, my boy!

Your scars grate my wounds; nightmares carve themselves out of harmony,
But there is only so much I can bear to see, my eyes strain in melancholy.

Riches copious I did seed, Rice, Oil, Corn, Salt or Meat,
But plea I do in solemnity, may my seeds be treasured as greatness you seek.

- Dedicated to World Hunger Problem

The Story of Shanghai Part 1

Work has so far plugged most of my stay at Shanghai. However, exploration runs deep and I did indeed extricate some time out – here and there.

A couple of visits to Nanjing Road were enough to convince me, if there be compiled a list of shopping paradises in the world – this one makes it. Nestled in the heart of the city and well connected by the metro line, Nanjing Street transports you in to a world and a vision, built on conviction. The walk is, well – crowded (as you would expect in Shanghai or for that matter China) and dizzying. As you make your way on this walkstreet(traffic is not allowed),you get jostled by hawkers – ‘You want Role-es(Rolex)?’ to ‘You want gal?’!!!









As you trundle past bevies and squint past glares of advertisements – the progress conjures itself(and the generous use of electricity) – and also conjures a dream someone had projected – ‘Mumbai will be Shanghai’ – and you shall smirk.









The road eventually ends on ‘The Bund’ along the banks of Huangpu River. To get the topography cleared Huangpu splits Shanghai in to two – Pudong and Puxi. All this while we were in Puxi and as you saunter and hit at the banks – Pudong skyline gazes at you. The Pearl Tower beams down at Huangpu, appreciative of its manifestation in the waters.











Ohh yes! I almost forgot what do you get to eat? Everything! Unless you are a vegetarian, of course. There are a couple of Pizza Huts yes, else you have this option –