A Tad Bit of Madrid & A Little More of Porto

A revisit is refreshing, literally and metaphorically. I had a few extra hours in Madrid before flying out to Porto. Not taking advantage of this would be plain lethargy. But, lethargy is non-existent at the beginning of exciting trips and I headed into the heart of Madrid.

My first visit to Madrid some four years ago was quite a milestone. Under the supervision of my sister, I had my first ever beer. What followed after were all possible extremes of alcohol-induced behavior, largely inspired by "college". And now having graduated, there is no real excuse to let alcohol take control. So, to come back to Madrid, actually enjoy a beer and not drink it just to lose my wits is refreshing. The other interesting part of Madrid was eating some typical spanish garlic prawns that my dad was obsessed about and spent a whopping three days trying to explain to mum how to cook it. Three tries later, mum nailed it and I now know exactly why my dad was so adamant about it all.

Porto is the most offbeat city on my extremely conventional euro trip. And that's not saying much. The irony of evaluating the first destination is that there is nothing to compare it with. And, the joy of holidaying makes everything seem more dandy than it is. One thing I can affirm through experience is that the hostel I lived at in Porto, Yes! Porto is the best hostel I've ever stayed in. And that's saying a lot. Besides being friendly, socially encouraging, party-promoting and tours-providing, they offered a 10 Euro home cooked Portuguese meal which included a soup, a starter, a main course, some desert and 5 alcoholic beverages. Not only was it cheap, but they also got the whole hostel together and gave us a taste of some local food. Brilliant. And I could go on and on about the hostel. I really could.

I walked around the first day breathing in all the localness I could. Porto is so beautifully tiny that it didn't take long to get an idea about the pretty city. Porto is officially the only place in the world where port wine is made, much like champagne and France. So, I undertook a day trip into the port-wine-producing paradise that is the Douro Valley. Not only was the valley stunning, but the vintage wine that we tasted was absolutely sinful. I've never had any form of alcohol that was as smooth as the vintage wines I tried there. It's only for the best that I cannot currently afford it. This day also included trips to smaller towns close to Porto including Aramante and Larego. This port-wine tour was slightly expensive so I was the only backpacker among some older, well-to-do people. But, the fellow tour-members were a fascinating bunch and included beer/restaurant owners, and a technologist who was traveling with his family in a mobile home across Europe. Someday, I will dare to do the same. Someday.

The second day left me Porto-ed out. I did two city tours back to back, one was a walking tour and the other was on a Segway. Yes, a Segway. While the former was more insightful, the latter was more fun. Segways look awkward for sure but the concept is pure genius. The ease with which you can maneuver yourself uphill, downhill, left and right is so delightful. It's effortless, fast-paced and so bloody fun. I'd buy one as soon as I have excess amounts of money. Or, maybe I'll just stick to doing tours, that seems a little less socially awkward.

I had to switch hostels my last night in Porto. The super hostel I was in was booked because of a music festival that SXSW and ACL would laugh at. So, I moved further out close to the beach to this other hostel called Peste. I didn't expect much because it was a whopping 30km away from the center, but it was a delightful little house which was more of a friendly home than a paid-for hostel. Again, the people I met there were so wonderfully nice and so eclectic. They included animators, PHDstudents, film-makers and students. But, what brought us all together was that we were all travelers and well the fact that we could all also speak English. We drank and dined in Portuguese style which seemed not that different from what everyone does. The steak we had after was heavenly. It was rare and moist, dipped in some serenely delicious garlic cream sauce. The meat was tender and the whole experience was superme, despite being my second dinner of the day. Now, that's a sign of some good food. Once we were all buzzing, a bunch of us headed to the city to enjoy the nightlife. Like most European cities, the night didn't get started till 1am. Plus, you can drink on the streets so everything was Vegas/Nola style. We were actually buying beer (illegally) from these aunties on the street for a Euro that our host knew oh so well. There is this added advantage of partying with locals - they know so much more. But, the worst part of Porto was the nightlife. Yes, it was buzzing and lively and the crowd was great, but there was just way too much smoke. Everyone smokes in Porto. And when everyone is drunk and out, everyone smokes even more. Additionally, smoking indoors is allowed so that didn't help. I must have consumed over twenty cigarettes worth of passive smoke. My clothes, considering the slightly larger surface area, must have consumed several more. Everything on me smelt of smoke, even my underwear. There was a point when I found it kind of hard to breathe. Yes, it was bad. Worse than Dubai and Dubai is bad when it comes to smoking. I remember one of my tour guides was complaining about the same thing. Apparently 2020 is when they're going to ban smoking in Portugal. Right, I'll make a trip after that.

All in all, go to Porto. It´s not too touristy which is a massive positive and has some delightful sights to offer. The people are not too bad either.

P.S. Portuguese Beer = Super Bock = Super Indeed.

by Anish Malpani

The Jordis Unga Phenomenon

I am in love. Jordis Unga came into my life some five years ago through an eleventh-grade television obsession in the form of Rockstar INXS. The show was a drop from heaven for my friends and me. It was a version of American Idol, but filtered to only rock artists. The winner would front the kinda-legendary band, INXS. Jordis was 22 then and noticeable, but not the best. Marty Casey took that owner. JD Fortune won it in the end though, along with the award for the biggest douchebag. He no longer fronts INXS.

At 22, all those years ago, Jordis was the youngest competitor on Rockstar INXS. But, corny as this sounds, she had this twinkle in her eye, and this sense of genuine likability that made her one of those contestants that nobody could hate. She thrived on real emotion, not the over-the-top-oh-my-god-I-am-so-fake kind of drama.  I remember her rendition of “Imagine” was so serene that I still have it on my iPod today, a solid five years later. She placed fifth overall and I thought that was the end of that. Not quite.

Five years later, a week or so ago, I happened to stop skipping channels whilst I was on NBC. An episode of “The Voice,” NBC’s throw-of-the-dice against ABC’s flailing “American Idol”, was coming to an end. The host reviewed all the contestants that had made it past the first round, and BOOM, Jordis was back. This girl whose voice had played a decent role in my high-school days was back on the grid. She was a little older now and hopefully a little wiser. I had to see what she was all about. I rushed on to the Internet to hear her audition, and she literally destroyed the bejeezus out of it. It was an incredible rendition of Paul McCartney’s “Maybe I Am Amazed” and I was not only amazed, I was engaged, enthralled and in love.

I guess the fact that I once had a connection of sorts with this singer made me a lot more excited about her come back. But besides this connection, what really sold me was the pure passion oozing out from every inch of her. Clichéd as it sounds, hear me out. She started off a little nervous, but as soon as Blake hit his button, her performance was transformed. And this transformation was beautiful. Her face erupted into this magnificent smile and her eyes cringed at the pure joy of guaranteed progress. And then she just let go. She sang her lungs out, and rasped like a true rocker on those high notes, which sent a tingly quiver down my gut. What I find special about her is that she does not try to be someone she is not. In a television world marred by commercialism and sensationalism, it’s hard to find true expression of emotion. This makes her absolutely fantastic. Add some badass tattoos, some deep soothing eyes and a thundering smile, and you have my love.

On some level, my love for Jordis stems off of my current conundrum with women. When you’re looking for Mrs Right, there is this look/personality payoff. When the latter leads to attraction, it’s extremely refreshing because you know that your infatuation is not superficial. Sometimes, that is so hard to find. I found that with Jordis, and yes however farfetched it sounds, I am enjoying it. Currently, I am watching that performance of hers at least seven times a day, and that’s borderline unhealthy. But, I enjoy it every single time. Yes, I am never going to meet her, but I find this obsession really joyous. I hope more people see that genuineness in her. I hope she makes one hell of a career with her avocation.  Good luck, Jordis.

P.S. At my current rate of writing, it takes some real inspiration to get me to blog. Sad, but true.

by Anish Malpani

India Bindaas - Blogging the NRI Mind

500 People + 3 Days + 2 Families + 4 Dress Changes + 18 Dances + Lots of Money + A Phantasmagorical Quantity of Food = Our Cousin’s Medium-Sized Desi Destination Wedding. India Bindaas was conceived somehow after this sweaty, tiring yet immensely memorable experience. While recovering back home in Dubai, through a somewhat-clichéd epiphany, we (my sister and I) realized that we had something to say that was a step aside from the perceived conventions of modern Indian thinking. Also, both of our blogs were not functioning anyway. So, we decided to invest our creative energy on a new patriotic escapade. Now, we are a couple of non-resident, cynical-yet-proud Indians ranting and raving, recollecting, reproving and rationalizing everything that remotely resonates with our rat-infested yet ravishing India. We hope you can relate, at least a little. Check our new blog out at http://indiabindaas.in.

P.S. Yes, we succumbed to the super Desi .in top-level domain.

by Anish Malpani

Dhobi Ghat = A Bollywood Renaissance?

So I had the blissful pleasure of getting a chance to watch Aamir Khan Production's latest concoction, "Dhobi Ghat" on the big screen here in New York City. I am an AK fan, so yes I was excited to witness this spectacle. By the time the credits rolled, I was not only satisfied, but supremely amazed at the boldness and the silky, pure nature of this film. It was real, believable, emotional and stirring, but yet beautifully simple. I just had to break my three-month hiatus from blogging to review it.

The movie begins at this slow-rapid pace where everything seems painfully slow but is actually rolling on at a ten-minutes = one-night-stand pace. The first part focuses on character development and it is thoroughly pleasing to see that the Indian Film Industry has finally thought hard enough to develop interesting yet real characters. The film soon paves its way into a deep melancholy, but nothing that was sad enough to make you cringe. It climaxes with an acceptable and understandable disappointment. So yes, the end leaves you wanting more and does seem a little sudden. On retrospection though, this movie has deep, layered messages about India and life in Mumbai. Everything is transient, and so much happens, but in the end, everything and everyone moves on.

One of the dominating reasons I like this movie is that it was not a conventional Bollywood flick. It has no songs, is barely 120 minutes in length and is not scared to be real about sex, language and reality. A lot of credit for this obviously needs to go to director/producer Kiran Rao. She had a fresh spin on each of the main characters, and in what some might find dry, there is a lot of honest depth to be found. Prateik Babbar, i.e. the "Dhobi" was simply brilliant. He was delightfully convincing and genuinely charming in his slumdog-like role in this movie. Aamir Khan and the other chick did a decent job at personifying their persona too.

All good movies have one stand-out scene that just blows you away. This movie had one too. It was a first-person take of one of the characters in the movie. She was simultaneously filming and drawing on the shores of a beach in Mumbai, and every attempt of hers at this was lost when the waves strolled over and erased her writings. She did this a couple of times, chuckled and talked about how things are as transient as her writing on the beach. The sea seems to eat up all the secrets and keep them away from the world, making it a truly faithful friend. Yes, it might sound a little corny and I am sure my description does not do it any justice, but if you do watch this movie, enjoy that scene.

All in all, Dhobi Ghat is no epic nor a life-changing mindf**k. It's a simple, classy, deep and a blissfully sorry movie that seems to throw fresh paint across the Bollywood landscape. It's daring and I love that about it. It's a must watch for sure. If not in the theatres, then definitely at home, but NOT while having dinner or eating lunch. Make time for this one and treat it with a tad bit of patience, and I promise you it will be worth the while.

P.S. The movie served as a lovely end to a 12-hour-day with a long-lost friend.

by Anish Malpani

The Halloween Stare

So I am going to be a hundred-dollar-bill this Halloween. Yes, that is probably more American than any American will be, which is ironic. I am not American but am still imbibing the ultimate American education. Yes, it feels good to be an "exotic" (arguably) international student, but that sense of home that my country gives me, can never be matched. It is especially depressing whilst I am recruiting (for an internship/job). The "recovering" economy here in America prefers the local population, which is annoying, but fair. Why would a company spend time and money on an international student, when they can get somebody as good who is not going to increase paperwork? It is rational and completely logical but personally frustrating. Forget internships, it is hard even getting interviews. Even firms that preach "equal employment" are not considering international students - apparently we are the exception.

Yes, I am bitter and complaining. I am also downgrading myself a little by framing myself as easily replaceable but the dieing truth is that no one is indispensible. Modesty does not always reap benefits though so I am going to just say it - it sucks that the fate of an individual depends more on the interview than his/her actual capacity to work. It sucks, but it's again the only rational way of going about doing it. So, I need to turn my focus more towards improving my interviewing skills and how to fluff my resume. Ironic, to say the least but reasonable, none the less. Sure. I have a phone interview tomorrow. Let's see how that goes.

P.S. The reason for this mournful post is that I recently got rejected after a topsy-turvy interview. Phase 1 was bad, phase 2 was awesome. Bad beat awesome, unfortunately. I am bitter, and sad, and venting. Apologies. But, I feel that lifes staring at me like that friggin' pumpin pictured above.

by Anish Malpani