Its been a few days since I have written about London. The two week Easter holidays are over and schools have reopened. It almost sounded like the two week Dusshera break we get. The  break had left my nephew totally bored and  me and  bhabhi were looking forward to the school reopening. The school is 5 minutes walk from the house. The walk is never lonely, as most of the other kids are also from the neighbourhood, you see someone or the other walking by. Unlike India neighbours dont want warm up so easily and there is no small talk.

This is a public school (government run). It has a primary school and a nursey. Three years plus kids are preschoolers (like my nephew) and go to school only for two hours. Parents and kids wait in the porch and one of the teachers opens the gate and takes in a student at a time verbally noting the person accompanying the kid. I had to tell her that I am Gantavya's aunt and would come to pick him up as well. She greets every kid by name.
Inside the all kids draw out the slip of their name and put it in the tumbler. this is their attendance.

The area is bright and looks like any upmarket Delhi playschool. Most of the learning is through activities. Yesterday my nephew made a British flag. They have outdoor activities and kids are allowed to play with various toys. My nephew has wanted the motorbike for eons now, just like most other boys in the nursery, but refuses to run to get to it. We refuse to intervene to make him learn that sometimes you have to run after what you want. Mummy daddy or bua wont be there to give it to you on a platter.

A friend of bhabhi laments that British schooling provides 13 weeks of holidays and that cannot be adjsuted with any kind of job! (India must have at least 15!). Her daughter goes to a private school. She feels that if I can afford it (she's an architect), why not the best for my daughter? She's on a guilt trip that she is not providing enough time to her daughter. Adding to her misery is an acquaintance who has been told by the same school to withdraw her daughter as she cannot cope.

Luckily for her, her daughter's KeyStage I is just around the corner. KSI is like our board exams, only that there is one board across UK ( we have ICSE, CBSE etc) and given by kids in class 2. There is a KS2 later that decides the direction of studies for the kids.

Meanwhile April 24 was a mass strike by teachers across UK demanding higher wages. this is their  biggest strike since 1987. Maybe they heard of the  Seventh pay commission!!

A friend of mine has been enjoying an 'enforced holiday' due to a broken leg. She had been working 12-14 hours, sometimes 6 days a week. I felt it was fishy ;). It reminded of this joke:

Two software engineers desperatley need a few days off but the manager keeps refusing. So one day one of them knocks the bulb out of socket and sticks his feet into it hanging upside down just when the managet passes by.

manager: mr x what are you doing? why are you hanging upside down?
engg 1: upside down? no i am standing! after all i am the lightbulb.
manager: get down and take two days off! you need a vacation

with a sad face engg 1 starts walking away. Suddenly engg 2 also starts walking.

manager: mr y now why are you walking?
engg 2: sir i cant work in the dark!

Proverbial London weather can change in the space of weekend shopping. The closest supermarket here is Asda. Its a few minutes away so we (me, bro and nephew) decided to walk. The pavements have a gradient, it dips close to driveways but the curve is such that it makes for smooth walking.

Londoners use trolleys to cary home the shopping (if they dont have a car, or  not driving ..). The trolley  may have two wheels and a  bag vertically attached to it, looking like a twisted version of trolley suitcases we have in Delhi. Older people have bigger ones with four wheels, those are far easier to drag.

The greenery in suburbs is better than most areas in Delhi. There are few speeding cars so on the whole walking is safe and pleasureable. It somehow felt as if despite all the pollution, the air here is purer than back home. People are generally mannered. They follow teh traffic rules. Cars stopped on either side of the small driveway when my nephew almost ran to the road. We were scared and he got a scolding but I felt thankful for the traffic and human sense of Londoners.

The trolleys are chained to to each other in a row. You need to punch in a one pound coin to release it. There are families walking in and out for the weekend shopping. Many of them are Asians you can tell by the look, clothes and of course the language. The main area has a twisted lobby with food and electronics shops lining one side, a big display at the centre and the main supermarket to the right.

The layout is similar to the Spencers in Delhi with straight rows of display on the two sides and walking area in the middle. It is called Gondola, kind of U boats of Venice where both the straight legs of U have normal display and the curve has special display as it takes more area. It can have new items or as in the case of Asda discounted items.

As expected the range and variety of items is HUGE. The wonder is the number of miles many of the items have travelled to be on these shelves. The detailed labels note the country of origin from Brazil to Caribbean to of course China. Most of the workers around are of Asian origin.

The billing counters are positioned at the at the end of the rows, a format that Spencers also follows. The counters are long and rectangular with the billing clerk at the other end. You arrange your stuff at one end and the escalator takes it to the clerk. He hands out polythene bags to you to pack it the way you want. The card machine just out of the counter so you can swipe it youself while the clerk punches in the amount from the other side. The trolley can be returned to its row and the pound extracted back.

Phew! an odd feeling when I landed here but considering how hard i had to work for it, it fitted. I was refused visa long back because i was young, highly educated and single (all possible sins in their eyes). Once bitten twice shy, so i meticulously attached 50 pages of documents to prove that i am worthy and have no reason to hang on in the UK for long. By the way I am still young, even more educated and still single ;)

I was nearly jumping with joy when I saw my brother waiting for me outside the airport, happy that I am no longer a sinner. Maybe they listened to christ and started to hate teh sin instead of the sinner ;P

We took the train to paddington. The underground stations remind you of Delhi Metro. Here there are three classes of trains though: Tube: cheapest, slowest and ordinary seats
normal ones: costlier, faster and better seats and the best is express trains: costliest, fastest and best seats etc. The ticket checker was a woman of color (black), fat and I felt as if movies had come to life. Her name read Sharmila and my surprise had no end. London is truly cosmopolitan. Paddington reminded me of Agatha Christie and her novel '4 50 at Paddington'. Paddington is a big station where trains from most corners meet and you see a sea of humanity around.

From Paddington we landed at the Baker Street station and it had Sherlok Holmes on the walls. I felt i knew so much and was finally seeing it all. We got onto the Jubilee line.
Bro:this was constructed to mark the jubilee of coronation of the present queen.
Me: 50 th which just went by? doesnt look that good
Bro: nah this was for 25 th jubilee

We passed the Millenium dome now passed onto O2 for various events. The houses in every council look similar with only very cosmetic difference outside. In one word Boring.

PS: will update more, my nephew getting restless, wants to 'see' all the people i am talking to ;)

An artist in an attempt to cover memory lapses would ask everyone : so how are you doing? how is your father? Is he in the same line of business?

One day he came across a beautiful woman and asked: how are you? how is your father? Is he in the same line of business?

The woman replied: i am fine, so is my father, yes he is still the king of England :)


A man was once confessed to not remembering the name of his wife of 30 years: Why else do you think I have been calling her darling for the past 20 years??

PS: My bhabhi (sister-in-law)'s name is Arpana that of her younger sister Anupama. Even after five years of marriage my brother introduces her as Anupama off and on ;). In his invitation lettter for my Visa he wrote '.......and my sister Arpana.....'

Once a friend's friend Ujjwal (code named UK) called me an ISI agent asked what was my address ;). Heres my reply (sent in Aug 2002)

Oook ji
Namaskar
Humne aapko itni din se khat nahin likha iske dui karan hain, ek to humari who sundar wali chamiya secretary chutti pe gayi hui thi toh hamara mood hi off ho gaya phir sanju baba ki wajah se.....
Aur doosra yeh ke aap ne apun ko isi agent bola- who jo hamara para chada tha to ab utra hai
Mind mat kijiyega, yeh Mumbai aake hamar bhasa jara mix ho jaati hai

To hum keh rahe thi ki tum apun ko ISI agent bola- tereku pata hai ki apun kaun hai- kabhi dekha bhai logon ko apne bare main bolte hue? Poochta hai apun kaun hai- yeh ISI jaisi ko to hum jeb main rakh ke ghoomta hai
Tereko maloom nahin hai ki apun se yeh chotta, bada sare shakeel darte hain, dawood bhi dubai main dubka rehata hai- aur tu humko isi agent bola? Dekhiyo sanju baba ko bhi hum hi nikalega, who bhai logon ka role achcha karta hai
Woh to tu apne firont man munna bhai ka firend hai to chod diya hai varna phir bola to tere naam ka paan supari sab kha lenge
Apun ke London se Tokyo tak links hain, samjha kya?
Tokyo wale ne to tujhe contact bhi kiya tha, agar koi baat ho to usko bolna
Apun ke address to 30 countries ki police dhoondh rahi hai, agli baar FBI ke red corner notice nikal aayega, tereko bhej dega address dekh lena, isliye kafi din se US nahin gaya
Bheja karch karma padta hai apun ke bare main pata karne ke liye.
Swati’d great

HER DIARY

I asked him what was wrong - he said, "Nothing." I asked him if it
was my fault that he was upset. He said it had nothing to do with me
and not to worry. On the way home, I told him that I loved him, but he
simply smiled and kept driving. I can't explain his behavior; I don't
know why he didn't say, "I love you too." When we got home, I felt as
if I had lost him, as if he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. He
just sat there and watched TV; he seemed distant and absent. Finally,
I decided to go to bed. About 10 minutes later he came to bed. I
decided that I could not take it anymore, so I decided to confront him
with the situation but he had fallen asleep. I started crying and
cried until I fell asleep. I do not know what to do. I'm almost sure
that his thoughts are with someone else. My life is a disaster.

 HIS DIARY
 Today India lost the cricket match again. DAMN IT.